Harry Potter and the Power of Faith
by CreativeQuill
Summary: COMPLETE (21 Chapters)-- Sequel to Harry Potter and the Power of Truth -- the peaceful world they expected hasn't exactly come to pass... which is what happens when you leave Death Eaters to regroup.
1. Default Chapter

_A/N – Well, here it is, the sequel to Harry Potter and the Power of Truth. For those of you who were so wonderful in your support, I thank you. First the sequel, then, maybe, the prequel._

_For those of you who haven't read HPPT, this story will make a LOT more sense if you do. _

_CQ_

Chapter One: The Return

Hermione Granger surveyed the scene from where she hid behind a large rock. The sky was overcast. It hadn't rained in days, which for this area just south of London at this time of year, was odd. Rain was always just a matter of time here.

As she turned to her left, where Ron was laying against a log, catching his breath after his mad dash across the field, she smiled. Sometimes, he was such a little boy. His eyes sparkled with excitement; he was eager to return to the fight.

Which might prove to be sooner than they expected, Hermione thought as her eye moved to a point behind him.

"Ron! Behind you!" Hermione took aim at the figure in black behind him, and fired over his head, barely missing him if the look on his face was anything to go by.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" he yelled.

"Saving your skin, you git! _Duck!_" she yelled back, not even bothering to glance at him.

Ron ducked, barely in time as the whizzing noise past his ear proved.

"Bloody hell, Mione!" he scrambled to his feet.

"Ron!" Hermione's eyes widened, and he turned, taking the yellow blast directly in his face. He stumbled, then fell, coming to rest on his back.

Hermione scrambled over to him, shaking him by the shoulder. "You stupid, stupid man! Why in Merlin's name did you _stand up_?"

"Because," he said, looking up at her from his prone position, "You were shooting at me."

"How, exactly, does that make any sense at all?" she asked with a smile as he sat up. They heard the buzzer go and, moments later, the others came running from their various hiding spots.

"That," Fred puffed. "Was _brilliant_!"

Ron, wiping yellow paint from his face, grimaced.

"Why didn't they have paintball when we were kids?" George was grinning happily. "This is amazing! Hey, Ron, you're yellow."

Hermione giggled as she helped Ron to this feet. He eyed her for a moment, then, with a wicked look, pulled her tightly to him, kissing her hard. When she finally pulled away, breathless, she too was covered in yellow paint.

"You know, Ron, you're supposed to _avoid_ the paintballs..." Lee Jordan snickered. "Not jump up in front of them."

"Yeah, yeah, yuk it up," Ron said dryly. "Come on, let's head back home. Mum will have dinner ready soon, and I'm starved."

* * *

Apparating back to Potter Manor, they found Molly and Arthur in the kitchen. Molly was fussing over dinner while Arthur fussed over Harry and Ginny's twins, Lily Mione and Jamie.

Ginny sat at the kitchen table, checking over some papers. Her job, heading up Muggle Admissions at Hogwarts, took up a lot of her time, but most of it she could do from home, and she loved it.

"Ronald Weasley!" Molly exclaimed. "What in Merlin's name happened to you?"

"He took one for the gipper, Mum," George said, lifting a pot lid on the stove and sniffing appreciatively. "Dinner ready?"

"George, put that down! Get out of there!" Molly scolded, turning from her youngest son to swat at the twin.

"But, Mum, we've been playing hard and now we're hungry," George complained. "And Angelina has a class tonight and..."

"I know," Molly said. "And dinner will be ready shortly, but you're not sitting down to the table in _this_ house in that state. Go on, showers and change, the lot of you!"

Hermione glanced at the clock.

"Early dinner tonight, Molly?" She asked, noting it was only five oclock.

"Harry's called a meeting of the Order, love," Molly explained. "I thought you knew?"

Ron glanced at her. "No, we didn't. Where _is_ Harry?"

"In his den," Ginny said absently, "But he's on the phone with Minerva, so leave him alone."

"What's going on, Gin?" Ron asked solemnly. Harry hadn't called a meeting of the Order in months.

"Don't know," she wrote something on the paper in front of her before looking up at her brother. "He's been pensive for a couple of days. I know something's wrong but... well, I don't know what's going on, but we'll know in a couple of hours."

Ron nodded, following Hermione from the room.

"Well?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"No idea," Ron said, heading up the stairs towards the shower. He didn't, either, but he intended to find out.

Right after he washed away the yellow paint.

* * *

Harry paced in his den. He'd just gotten off the phone. Every Order member was contacted, all would be there.

Now he had to figure out how to tell them.

As he paced, he thought about the prophecy, as it had been revealed. Was it a prophecy? Who knew? All he knew was that it had been totally out of character for... the person who gave it. And he obviously remembered nothing of it.

And Harry had been the only one there at the time. He'd reviewed it, again and again, watched it from all angles, thanking Dumbledore again and again for his seventh-year gift of a pensieve.

And still he didn't fully understand. But the part he did understand, he was tired of. When was this going to finally end? It had been going on for... well, forever, really. But since about 1955 for this round. There had been a seventeen year break, but the Death Eaters had still been around... one too many Death Eaters, it would seem.

When would it end? The original prophecy, the one about him, had said that he would be the one to expel this wickedness from their world, but how many times did he have to do it?

Harry was tired. He just wanted to live a normal life with his family around him, raise his children with his wife, and worry about things like the stock market and inflation, not about Dark Lords and their minions attempting world domination.

He'd worried about that since shortly after his eleventh birthday. Almost twenty six years. He wanted it to be done and over with.

So this time, he must make sure that not only was this new power-seeker taken care of, he must also see to it that every one of those in league with him were neutralized. In one way or another.

Sighing, he looked at his watch. In two hours, they would all be here, and he'd better have a plan.

He picked up the phone once more.

* * *

Dinner was a hurried affair, in as much as Molly's meals could be hurried. Angelina and Alicia were both busy that night, so Fred and George stayed, as did Lee. In addition, Charlie and Bill and their families were also there. Amelia and Janie, their wives, offered to take all the children to the third floor playroom while the meeting was in progress. Ginny didn't like the twins to be anywhere near the main floor while Order meetings were going on. She knew that Potter Manor was unplottable, but she was always concerned, nonetheless.

Dinner was barely over when Order members began to arrive. Minerva and Snape arrived first, then Kingsley and Tonks. Lupin arrived alone shortly after. This began the tide of arrivals. Molly had coffee and tea set out in the War Room, but Harry was still nowhere to be seen.

"I'll get him, Dad," Ginny said when Arthur noted for the second time that Harry wasn't yet present. "I'm sure he's just pulling things together in his office."

Ginny knocked on the door to Harry's den softly. She knew better than to open the door without an invitation, especially with Order members present. Anything might be in the process of being said behind this door.

"Harry?"

"Come in, Gin."

She pushed open the door to find Harry and Ron facing each other across the coffee table, grim looks on their faces. Harry's pensieve sat on the table between them.

"Everything okay?" She asked, sensing the tension in the room.

Harry said nothing, but sighed and glanced at Ron.

Ron nodded and stood. It was eerie sometimes, the way the two of them could share thoughts without speaking.

"Harry?" she sensed so much tension here... something was terribly, terribly wrong. "What is it?"

"I'll get them settled down, Harry. Ten minutes and I'll send him in?"

"Make it fifteen," Harry said quietly, rubbing his eyes.

"Done," Ron closed the door behind him, leaving Ginny with her husband.

"Harry? What is it?" she asked in a very small voice.

"Gin... come sit down."

"You're scaring me, Harry."

"Oh, love, I'm sorry," he stood, coming to her, and wrapping his arms around her. "I have to tell the Order something tonight, but..."

"But?"

"It's so hard, Ginny. I'm so tired of all of this."

"Harry?" she pulled back to look into his green eyes, her sudden fear confirmed by the look she found there. "Not again?"

Harry nodded, "I'm afraid so. I... well, it's better that you see it for yourself."

He led her to the sofa, where he sat down next to her, and touched his wand to the pensieve.

As Ginny watched, and began to understand with the help of Harry's whispered explanations, silent tears found their way down her cheeks.

But she didn't stop watching.

* * *

"The reason for this meeting is something that happened last year... the night we fought Mahood. It's something that I have to share with the Order tonight, but I wanted you to be prepared."

"What?" he asked.

"You made a prophecy that night. I was unsure before, but in light of recent events, I'm afraid there can be no mistake about it."

"I did what? What did I say? When?"

"Watch," Harry turned, touching his wand to the pensieve.

* * *

"Thank you, everyone, for coming tonight at such short notice..." Harry began, half an hour later in the War Room. "I'm sure you're all highly confused. I'll try to make things a bit clearer for you."

"Harry, what is this all about?" Minerva asked shortly. She was a very busy woman these days, as Headmistress of Hogwarts, and her temper reflected that strain.

"I'm getting to it, Minerva," Harry replied, placing the pensieve in the middle of the long table. "I'd like you to see something."

"A memory, Harry?" Neville looked at him, concerned. Neville knew many of the things that Harry had witnessed over the years, few of them pleasant.

"In part, Nev, yes. After we defeated Mahood last year," Harry began, "As many of you know, Severus spent several days out there, after being transformed by Mahood in the final confrontation."

There were sounds of agreement from around the table. The details hadn't been shared with many, and not even everyone there knew the true spell that had been used, or that Snape was an animagus, but all knew that he had spent several days trapped in the body of a serpent out in that field, while Harry and the others were unconscious.

"When I went back for him," Harry continued. "I was surprised to find him in a condition that I can only describe as a... trance. He spoke to me in Parseltongue. I have placed this memory in the pensieve for you to better observe it... I will translate it for you afterwards. I want you to see this as it happened before I explain what it means. I hope that this will allow you to better understand."

With that, he touched his wand to the pensieve and stood back, allowing those seated around the table an unobstructed view. The mist over the pensieve churned, and coalesced into a shape... slowly emerging as the shape of a snake, coiled and hissing on the ground. It seemed calm, all but for the incessant hissing. Despite that, it was in no way threatening.

A few words were heard, an enquiry in Harry's voice, but the hissing continued. It seemed almost repetitive.

With a flash of light, the serpent coiled in the grass transformed, growing and changing into the shape of a man, a very tall, very thin, very dark man. Severus Snape.

A Severus Snape who continued to speak in Parseltongue.

After a moment, Harry touched his wand to the pensieve yet again, stopping the scene. Those seated around the table remained silent, all eyes trained on him.

"I'll now translate what was said," Harry said quietly,

"_Their time is now as the masses gather,_

_They will love, and a new generation will be born,_

_And in that, their motivations will become clear._

_Those in denial of our world will most need it_

_when the skies erupt and fire scorches the earth._

_The western world will hold their own,_

_but victory is unassured._

_Only with a return to true belief in all things magical_

_will our world be balanced._

_Good and evil, black and white, East and West._

_The power no longer hidden_

_will be the only defense._

_But first, those who knew each other of old shall find their hatred anew._

_He who now reaches for the seat of power, _

_a thorn in the side of those of bravery and courage,_

_would seek to dispel all of impure blood._

_He has power of heritage, of blood, of name._

_And those who dismiss him shall be the first to fall._

_And fall they will, for this man, this serpent of green, shall rule_

_unless one who has gone before, sacrafices all to defeat him._

_And if this new power rising is defeated, only then will the world rejoice_

_in peace and prosperity._

_Only then will there be acceptance between the worlds of muggle and magic."_

Harry fell silent. There was not a sound in the room until Hermione spoke.

"So it begins again," she said simply, a note of sadness in her voice.

"So it would seem," Harry confirmed.

"My only question is," Snape said from the far end of the table, "Who the hell is the bastard?"


	2. Chapter Two: The Meaning of Justice

Chapter Two: The Meaning of Justice

"Who is it, Mr Potter?" Minerva McGonagall's impervious voice belied the light of fear in her eyes. "Who has dared to open this... can of worms... again?"

Harry looked around at the faces. Everyone at the table, young and old, were looking to him. They all looked frightened. Again.

_Why me_? He thought. _Why can't I be done? When is it my turn to live a normal life?_

The concerned eyes continued to watch him. For now, there was no escaping the fact that he was both Minister of Magic, and the head of the Order. Not to mention, he was still, and always would be, the boy who lived.

"I said last time that we must either wipe out the threat entirely or accept that there will always be another who dares, Minerva," Harry said.

Minerva's steady gaze did not leave him, nor did she speak. She simply waited for him to continue.

Harry sighed, "I'm afraid we have indeed underestimated him."

"Who?"

"Thorn in their side? No love of those of bravery and courage? Hater of impure blood? An old enemy?" Harry gave a humorless laugh. "Surely someone here has worked it out?"

Harry looked over to Ron. His blue eyes burned with anger. He and Harry had discussed the identity earlier, and Ron was fully aware of Harry's suspicions.

"Malfoy," came a voice. A voice that had been much firmer and more resolute in recent months. Neville spoke again. "Harry, it's Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry smiled without humor and nodded. "That is what I believe, yes."

"But how?" Hermione asked. "I mean, I know he's clever, but..."

Ron snorted.

"... but," she continued, ignoring him. "I thought Mahood had 'dealt' with him? Isn't that what his letter to you said?"

"Only that Malfoy had learned to not underestimate me," Harry said. "In hindsight, I'm not so sure that that is a good thing."

"Harry," Snape said quietly. "You do realize that, on the power of his name alone...?"

"I do, Sev." I know that some will follow him who wouldn't otherwise just because of his father. Lucius commanded a lot of respect. Some will follow with the belief that Draco can somehow match that."

"But..."

"But nothing, Hermione," Harry said gently. "We have a situation we must deal with. However we decide to move, the fact is that there will always be another. Draco feels it is time to step forward. We have a prophecy that supports the possibility that he may defeat us all. We must figure out what it all means, and how to go forward."

"That is why, Mr Potter," Minerva's voice came sternly from one end of the table. "They have professionals at the Ministry for interpreting such things."

"I've already discussed this with Phineas Ellnore with the Department of Mysteries, Minerva. He has his best people working on it."

Minerva looked surprised for a moment, but soon recovered herself. "And what do they say?"

"Nothing, yet," Harry admitted. "They need time."

"Something we do not have an overabundance of."

"Regardless, that is what they need. In the meantime, those of us who have been here in past can probably make some pretty educated guesses," Harry said bitterly. "What we need is information from the inside. With Murray cooling his heels as a guest of the Ministry, I would imagine that turncoats aren't exactly thick on the ground over there."

He paced for a moment, then spoke again. "Alternatively, what we need is a plan for going forward with no more information than we have right now. Last time, we recognized the fact that there would always be a new contender for the position of Dark Lord unless we eradicated the Dark completely. We didn't do that, and now look where we are, only a year later."

He sighed, stopping and glancing at the people seated at the table. "I'm sorry, I..."

Ginny reached out and squeezed his hand, giving him strength. Harry took a deep breath, then continued. "I have lived with this for twenty six years. Some here have lived with this... situation, for twice that long. I, for one, refuse to do it any longer. I'm not going to be very popular in the coming months, but this is something that must be done.

"The Dark must be eradicated. Neutralized. I don't particularly care if there are those who choose to study the Dark Arts, but the moment they make the decision to begin to use those Arts against our people to attain power over our world, they will have to deal with the consequences.

"Fudge removed a lot of the old legislation from the books. There were a lot of very invasive things, outdated things, removed, and I agree with that. But political correctness went too far, in my opinion. "

"Harry?" Hermione looked at him, worried.

Harry glanced at her, his eyes sad. "Unfortunately, we cannot live in peace until we arrange our world in a peaceful fashion. I'll be speaking to Ministry officials tomorrow in an attempt to change some of the sentencing guidelines for those convicted of Dark Arts practice and attacks on others. I'll also be calling for a return of the High Treason laws."

There was a collective gasp. The High Treason laws had called for the immediate execution of anyone using Dark Magic against another for the gain of power. They had been abolished over a century before.

"I will not have our people living in fear of a Death Eater attack, wondering if their families are safe in their homes. The days of four year sentences in Azkaban for violent crimes are over. Those found guilty of Dark practices must be held responsible, and the punishment must fit the crime." Harry sighed again, rubbing his eyes with both hands, obviously tired and stressed. "We must rewrite Wizard Law and make the consequences fit the crime. We had Draco Malfoy _in Azkaban_. He was given a four year sentence for his part in the final battle, and Albus Dumbledore's death. Four years, because he confessed and 'repented'. Now look what we're dealing with. It has to end. Albus was worth more than four years. What Draco did to Hermione Granger was worth more than four years. Hermione's sentence was seventeen years of not knowing who she truly was, and living life alone, away from the people who loved her. And all the while, Draco Malfoy walked free. And now, he is again a thorn in the side of our world.

"This must stop," Harry said with a very tired voice. "We can reconvene in two days... eight pm. Right now, I have some things to think about. Thank you all for coming on such short notice tonight."

Harry quickly left the room, obviously agitated. Ginny didn't even glance around before following him.

"Well," Minerva said. "That gives us plenty to think about."

"Return of the High Treason laws?" Katie Bell-Wood said. "Is he insane?"

"No," Ron said. "Just sick to death of the guilty walking free while the innocent are prisoners to their fear."

"But..."

"I'm sure that Harry has considered all of the consequences," Hermione said quietly.

The meeting attendees dispersed quietly after that, leaving the remaining Weasleys and Hermione at the table.

"I've never seen Harry that angry," George commented.

"He wasn't angry," Ron stated flatly.

"What? Did you see him?" Fred looked at Ron incredulously. "If that wasn't angry, I don't want to be around him when he _does_ lose it!"

"Yes, I saw him. And Harry never 'loses it'. He wasn't angry. I've seen him angry, and that wasn't it."

"Then what was he?"

Ron glanced around the table, at his brothers and his parents. His gaze came to rest on Hermione. A silent communication told her exactly what he was thinking. She nodded.

"Ron's right," she said. "That wasn't anger. That was... hopelessness. Harry doesn't believe that we'll ever finish this. He wants to set up our world to deal with what he believes it's going to be like to live in with the constant threat of the Dark. He's lost faith that we can beat it, so he's looking to find a way for us to just survive."

* * *

"Harry?" Ginny's voice came from behind him. He stood on the wide covered patio behind the house, leaning one shoulder against one of the columns that supported the roof. He didn't turn.

"Do you ever look at the stars and wonder how many worlds there are out there, and if any of them have these sorts of things to deal with?" he asked quietly.

Ginny came behind him and slipped her arms around his waist. "I'm sure that they all have their own problems."

"Yes," Harry agreed. "They probably do."

"And those problems are theirs to deal with, Harry. Just as these problems are ours."

Harry turned, holding her in the circle of his arms. "Why can't they be someone elses problems for a while, Gin?"

"They can be," she said simply. "Give up your role as Minister. Retire. Announce that Harry James Potter is done with taking care of others. Walk away."

Harry looked at her, knowing she wasn't done.

"Then, try and live with yourself every time you hear of a Death Eater attack. Harry, I know you. This isn't just going to magically go away if it's someone elses problem. So long as it's happening, it will be your problem. You'll make it your problem."

"Then what do we do? Live with it?"

"No. Do what you can to make living as a Dark Wizard as unpleasant a prospect as possible. Discourage it, and fight it. But this time, don't stop at cutting off the head... stab it in the heart and be done with it."

"I'm tired of killing, Gin."

"I know, love. I know," Ginny moved closer to him, her arms squeezing him close. "But you, and the rest of the Order, are the best people to do it. People have faith in you."

Harry snorted. "And we all know where _that_ gets them, don't we? Twenty six years, Ginny, and their faith in me still hasn't ended it."

"Yet their faith in you continues. I wonder why, Harry?

Harry smiled sadly, "I have no idea. They have no reason to."

"Maybe it's because you continue to give them hope," she suggested softly.

"A fat lot of good hope is as the Death Eaters destroy their homes and kill their families. A lot of good hope does them then."

"Sometimes, it's _only_ hope that gets us through those times, Harry. Sometimes it's the only thing to hold onto. What do you think got me through it?"

Harry was silent a moment, knowing she was speaking the truth. Ginny had lived what he was talking about. She had lived in fear for her life, and for the lives of her children. Her home had been attacked in the middle of the night, her husband killed... she knew what she was talking about. She'd lived it.

After a moment of holding her, he spoke quietly. "What is justice, Ginny?"

Ginny sighed. "I don't know, Harry. Sometimes, I wonder if there really is any such thing. I wonder..."

"What?"

"I wonder if justice isn't just some fancy idea that was created to strip us of our right to vengeance."

Harry stared at her.

"I mean, how did the four years that Draco served in Azkaban pay for the life he took? For what he did to Hermione? How could four years possibly provide restitution for that? How could it have if it had been one hundred?

"Wasn't the whole point not punishment, but removing the danger from our society? How do you punish for the death of a wizard, much less a wizard of Dumbledore's ability? How much is enough for a crime of that magnitude? Shouldn't it really be about the removal of danger? The removal of living in fear?"

Harry nodded, "Yes."

"Then why let him out? Ever?"

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Why, indeed?"

* * *

"Harry?" The voice was quiet, but Harry was awake instantly. He opened his eyes to find Bill standing next to the bed, his wand out. Ready, Harry assumed, to cast a shielding spell, if necessary.

Harry smiled. His reputation of doing rash things when startled awake was well known in the household. Then, realizing that Bill was waking him in the middle of the night with what couldn't be good news, the smile vanished.

"What is it?"

"Shack just called," Bill said, as Harry threw his feet over the side of the bed. "There have been some attacks."

"How many?"

"Six separate attacks, all in southern England."

"How many muggles dead?"

"No muggles," Bill said quickly.

Harry looked up at him, surprised, then stood and grabbed a pair of jeans, "Oh?"

"No. Half bloods. All of them."

"What time is it?"

"Three."

"Okay," Harry pulled on the jeans, his mind already working. "Get Ron. Meet me in the kitchen."

As Bill left, Ginny stirred. "Harry?"

"Go back to sleep, Gin."

"What is it? Was that Bill?"

"Yes, it's okay. Ministry business. Go back to sleep."

"Ministry business in themiddle of the night?" she asked sleepily, sitting up.

"There have been some attacks. I don't have many details. Go on, I promise that I'll wake you if you need to be up."

"The girls?" Ginny looked startled. "Hogwarts?"

"No, love. Halfblood families, all in southern England."

"Well, there's no way I'll sleep now," she too rose, slipping on a robe over her yellow nightie.

Harry, who had grabbed a tshirt, headed for the door.

"I'll make coffee," Ginny said quietly, trying to not wake anyone else.

"Thanks, Gin," Harry said.

As they passed Hermione's door, it quietly opened and a half-dressed Ron slipped out, still buttoning his jeans. Hermione, in her normal loose fitting drawstring PJ bottoms and tank top, followed him. She was busily pulling her rampant curls back into an elastic.

"Harry?" she looked up at him, enquiringly.

"Let's go find out what Bill knows," Harry stalled, leading the way downstairs.

Entering the kitchen, he found Bill on the phone and Charlie already at the percolator, making coffee. Bill hung up as they filed in.

"That was Shack again. They're just dealing with the last site, and he'll be here in ten minutes or so."

"How many?"

"Six sites. Fourteen casualties."

"Not muggles?"

"Nope. Every one of them halfblood families."

"Anyone..." Ginny's eyes asked the question they all feared the answer to.

"No," Bill shook his head. "I didn't recognize any of the names."

"Okay," Harry said, taking a breath. "Fourteen casualties. Any survivors?"

"Several," Bill confirmed. "Six in St Mungoes. One uninjured."

"Any pattern to the attacks?" Harry fired at him.

Bill shook his head. "Other than all being in southern England... two near Bath, one near Oxford, two on the outskirts of London, and one in Devon."

At the mention of Devon, Ginny and Ron both looked at him. The Burrow was in Devon.

"Nowhere near home," Bill said at their look. "All the families were mixed, or of halfblood heritage. Ages ranged from..."

Bill swallowed, finding it hard to continued.

"Bill?" Harry prompted.

"Ages ranged," he continued. "From three to forty seven. Twelve of the fourteen casualties were under the age of fifteen. None of the survivors were children."

Ginny gasped, and Hermione reached out and clasped her hand. Too many children had died in these wars.

"The only thing that these families had in common were their heritages, and they all had children under fifteen in the household. None of them were pureblood."

"Whatever that means," Hermione grumbled.

"Six separate attacks that were that spread out," Harry speculated. "They've probably got at least three or four Death Eaters at each site..."

"Shack says more like seven or eight from the evidence."

Harry winced. "So, we're talking forty or fifty of them... on this alone."

"Looks like it, Harry."

At that moment, there was a pop announcing Kingsley Shacklebolt's arrival. He looked a mess, his robes were dirty, and his eyes looked hollow.

Ginny recognized that look. It was the look of a man who had witnessed too much death in too short a time.

"Shack, you okay?" Harry asked.

"You got coffee?" Kingsley asked as an answer, collapsing onto a kitchen chair. Charlie placed a steaming mug of coffee and a bottle of firewhiskey on the table in front of him.

"Thanks," he shot a grateful look at the second Weasley brother.

"How bad?" Ron asked quietly.

"Unbelievably," Kingsley sighed. "I've never... The night of the final battle? This was worse."

"How?" Ron said, stunned. He'd been in the thick of it the night Dumbledore had died... the night Harry had killed Voldemort. He'd had nightmares for years...

Kingsley shot a look at the women present and then looked back to Ron, "Just trust me. It was worse."

Ginny felt tears fill her eyes. She had a pretty good idea of what he was avoiding saying. She'd read the auror's report from the night Seamus Finnigans' family had died.

"All half bloods? You're sure?" Harry asked.

"All," Shack confirmed, taking a healthy shot of the firewhiskey. He took a deep breath, then glanced again at Ginny and Hermione before looking back to Harry. "They were mostly children, Harry."

"Dear God," Harry said, seeing the look in the auror's eyes. Knowing full well the things this senior auror had witnessed through the years... Harry shuddered at the thought of how bad it must have been.

"If I ever find out the names of the bloody bastards..." Shack shook his head, almost sobbing. Taking a breath, he lifted the whiskey bottle again.

"How long?" Harry asked.

"It was over in minutes," Shack replied. "Except for the few they kept to play with. Children."

"I don't want that in the papers," Harry stated. "You gag the Prophet if you have to. Shut it down, I don't care. But that stays out. The whole point was to instill fear. We'll risk Death Eater attacks, but there isn't a parent alive who would read about that and not run."

Harry turned quickly to Ron, "Ron, I want the twins and their families here. It's no longer safe."

Ron nodded, and immediately apparated away. Harry paced silently for a moment.

"Harry?" Bill began. "I..."

"Bill, we need to upgrade the wards on the house. I want this place to be better protected than Hogwarts."

"Harry..."

"Whatever you need to do that, Bill. I don't care. I want this place to be a bloody fortress they can't find. They're not getting to my family."

"Hermione..." he turned on her, his green eyes blazing. "You need to get word to Stephen Lewis. Things are heating up and it's not going to be just us. He doesn't need details, just tell him that it's going to be... it's going to be bad, and to let us know anything he hears that sounds... odd."

Hermione nodded and left the room.

"Charlie?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Amelia is a mixed blood, isn't she?"

"Her dad's a wizard, her mum's a muggle." Charlie confirmed.

Harry nodded, "If she wants them here, bring them."

"Harry... what you said last night? About the return of the High Treason laws?" Kingsley started. "You meant it?"

Harry took a deep breath, looking at all the faces in the room, all looking to him.

"Every word, Shack. Every last word."

* * *

_Well, there's chapter two. I got some lovely reviews to chapter one... thank you all! _

_**Merlindamage: ** Wow, you're good. I'm going to have to slap you for being in my head again... but hey, I do so love it when you all guess... because my muse laughs in that evil way, and I know I'm about to see some interesting plot developments..._

_**Larna Mandrea:** I originally had it set up so I was going to post a "preview" of chapter one, and leave it off at the end of that first scene... and then I read the rules of posting at the site, and apparently, that's not allowed. So you got it all in one. Goosebumps? Goosebumps are good..._

_**azntgr01:** Well, maybe you'll see..._

_**James Milamber:** My prophecy writing? Hmm, and here I thought Snape came up with that..._

_**Shotgunn:** Keep reading, and keep reviewing. You never know WHAT someone might be called in an "off" moment._

_**Saerry Snape**: Ominous always keeps me reading! _

_CQ_


	3. Chapter Three: Reactionaries

Chapter Three: Reactionaries

By dawn, Potter Manor was in an uproar. The hurried arrival of Fred andGeorge and their families, complete with children, pets, and hurriedly packed bags, awakened Molly and Arthur, who came downstairs to find nearly all their children there, with Ron and Charlie preparing to apparate with Amelia to fetch her parents.

Harry had felt awkward at his sister in law's show of emotional relief when Charlie had asked her if she wanted to bring her parents to the safety of Potter Manor. The tension that had been obvious in her for days came flooding out, and she had run down the stairs and thrown herself tearfully into Harry's rather surprised arms. Harry, not really knowing what to do, patted her awkwardly on her back and pulled away as soon as he could without appearing rude.

Knowing that Amelia wasn't exactly proficient at duelling, Ron had volunteered to accompany them to her parents home in Cornwall, just in case. In their absence, Molly began the preparations for a large family breakfast. Harry smiled at this. Some things never changed, and topping that list was Molly in the kitchen in times of stress.

Leaving Molly and Ginny to figure out who would stay in which rooms, he led the twins, Bill and Arthur into his study.

"What in bloody blue blazes is going on, Harry?" Fred asked. "Ron shows up and damned near scares ten years off my life leaning over me to wake me up. Alicia nearly stunned him before we got a light on..."

"Fred," Harry said. "There were some attacks in the night."

Fred and George glanced at each other.

"Who?" Fred asked stiffly. "Lee?"

"No one we know, but all mixed blood families," Harry sighed, flopping down heavily in his favorite chair. "Alicia and Angelina both come from mixed heritage. I had to get you here, where it's safe, until we figure out what is going on."

"Thank you, Harry," Fred nodded. "How bad was it?"

"Bad. Kingsley was here right after... at around three. He says..." Harry swallowed. "He says that they're making... examples of halfblood children."

"Dear God," George muttered. "They're targeting _kids_?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Intimidation tactics."

"And the git expects that to work?"

"Hell, Fred," Harry said, "_I_ expect it to work, if it gets out. I've put a silencer on the press, but I don't know how long..."

"What do we need to do?" Arthur asked.

"Bill, I want you to work with the twins on security today," Harry said. "If it can be booby-trapped, reinforced, strengthened... I want it done."

"Harry..."

"Bill, I can't concentrate on what needs to be done if I'm worried about my family, about Ginny, or Hermione, or your wives or the kids. Their safety comes first. Until that is done, nothing else can happen."

Bill sighed, "Understood. Just understand me when I say that I have no intention of hiding behind the wards. When it's time to face that little pissant, I'll be standing right there."

"But Janie, and your kids, and my kids, and Amelia, and Molly... they'll be safe. Janie and Amelia, even Molly, can't duel like Ginny and Hermione can. I won't risk any of their lives, or the kids' safety."

Bill nodded.

"Whatever you need, get it. I don't care what it is. And I want a safe room, the best you can come up with."

Fred and George looked positively eager. Harry could almost see their minds working together.

"Harry?"

"Arthur, you and I are going into the Ministry."

Arthur's eyebrows rose.

"I'm calling a department head meeting. We're going to change some laws today."

"Which ones?" Arthur asked quietly.

"The ones that allow Death Eaters out of Azkaban. And a few to do with targeting children as victims. And perhaps even the High Treason law, if we can manage to get it fit in."

Arthur nodded, resigned to the fact that Harry really was going to do this. Or at least try. In a way, it was a good thing. Arthur was concerned though, that the motivation behind it wasn't so much about justice as it was about lack of hope for what the future held for them.

He sighed again, heading with the others to the dining room for breakfast.

* * *

David and Anna Jennings arrived at Potter Manor, accompanied by the three Weasleys during breakfast. David, a wizard, shook hands and nodded briefly. He was in his sixties, and looked very tired.

Amelia's mother, Anna, on the other hand, looked downright terrified.

"Harry, these are my parents," Amelia said, moving towards Harry. "David and Anna Jennings, my brother in law, Harry Potter."

"Mr Jennings, Mrs Jenning," Harry nodded his greeting.

"I don't understand why we had to leave our home, Mr Potter?" Anna asked.

Harry looked at her husband. David Jennings had an almost pleading look in his eyes.

"It's just to make Amelia more comfortable, Mrs Jennings. There have been some attacks, and until we get it sorted out, it's important that we keep our families safe."

"But why am I more safe here?"

"Harry's the Minister of Magic, Mum," Amelia explained. "His home is very safe."

Molly bustled in, helping Amelia find her mother a chair and placing a plate before her.

"Thank you, Minister," David Jennings said. "She... she doesn't always understand. I've tried to explain,. But... she thinks we can just call the muggle police..."

"Mr Jennings, it's fine," Harry said with a smile. "We're all family here. She'll be safe, and Molly and Amelia will keep her busy. And please, don't call me Minister. My name is Harry."

He nodded, "Thank you, Harry. I admit I was becoming a bit concerned before Amelia and Charlie showed up. What we've been reading in the news..."

"Well, you're certainly safe here."

"I feel like I ought to be doing something. You will tell me if there is any way I can help?"

"Of course," Harry said. "What do you do?"

"I'm a security consultant for Gringotts," he said. "I normally travel a lot..."

Harry couldn't help the smile that began on his face. "David, I do believe we'll be able to keep you busy."

* * *

"Gin?"

"In here, Harry," she called from the nursery.

"You okay?" He asked, coming to the door and watching as she folded baby clothes into drawers.

"Of course, Harry," she smiled wanly. "Why?"

"Well... I just thought you were supposed to be working on the next round of invitations for muggle students?"

"I... yes."

"All done?" He asked, slightly surprised. Ginny worked fast, but the packet of applications had only arrived that morning, and it was only noon.

"No. I haven't even begun," she sighed.

Harry, now concerned, straightened from where he was leaning on the door jamb and came into the room.

"What's wrong?" he asked, pulling her into his arms.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I just..."

"Too many people in the house?"

"No! Oh, no, Harry. Not that. Janie and Amelia have been great, organizing the playroom for the little ones, and Angelina has opened the old schoolroom for her and Alicia to work with the older ones... I just..."

"You're not worried about the girls?"

"Always," she smiled. "But... it's not that."

"Then what is it?"

"I just don't feel up to anything today."

"You're tired," he held her, rubbing his cheek on her strawberry scented hair. "You've been up since three. You should go have a nap."

"No."

"Yes. Your mum and Anna have the house under control. Amelia and Janie are with the kids. You need to rest."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm on my way into the Ministry with your dad and Bill. David and the twins are working on the house security, so we're going in to see if we can't make some changes. I want to send a very clear message to the bastards who were out last night. By tonight."

"And how are you going to do that?" she asked.

"I'm inviting Rita Skeeter by the office this afternoon."

"Harry!" Ginny pulled back. "You're not!"

"Oh, yes, I am," he smiled at her reaction. Rita Skeeter was nobody's favorite, with good reason, but she could prove useful at times. "Hermione and Ron are coming along as well. They'll keep her in line."

Ginny sighed, laying her head against his chest. She could hear the strong beat of his heart.

"I love you," she said simply. "Whatever you decide, I'm behind you."

He smiled, his lips against her hair. "Keep that up, Mrs Potter, and I may not go into the Ministry today at all."

Ginny smiled, but it was a tired smile. Harry led her back to their room where he pulled back the covers of their bed and slipped her tshirt off over her head.

Letting him remove the rest of her clothes, Ginny laid down and felt the duvet being tucked around her.

"Sleep, love. I won't be late."

Before he got to the door, she was asleep.

* * *

Bill, Arthur and Harry flooed to the Ministry twenty minutes later. They were quickly followed by Ron and Hermione. The five walked through the main marble-lined hall of the Ministry building quickly, making their way to Harry's office. Harry stopped at the desk of the secretary outside.

"Ramona, I want the department heads, all of them, in meeting room one in twenty minutes."

"Yes, Minister."

"And tell them I don't care if they're booked to meet with King William, I want them there. If they can't be, I'm sure that I'll be able to find someone to take their place. Permanently."

"Yes, Minister!" Ramona's dark eyes were round with surprise. Harry had never been anything but fun loving and jovial with her in past.

"Twenty minutes isn't a whole lot of time, Harry," Bill warned. "Some honestly may not be able to make it on such short notice."

Harry turned his cool green gaze onto his brother in law and Deputy Minister.

"How much time did the attacks last night take, Bill? Perhaps we should tell the survivors that their elected officials don't feel it was very long. I'm sure, to those being attacked, it felt like the longest twenty minutes of their lives."

Bill sighed.

"I can't afford to be lenient and laid back right now, Bill," Harry continued in a gentler tone. "I wish I could, but I can't. Every one of the department heads was made aware of the attacks. Any that feel that something has priority over that... I have no time for."

"Just..."

"Any that have priorities _before_ that, Bill. I'm not about to punish anyone who is working on the problem."

Bill nodded. Ron and Hermione glanced at each other as Ramona entered the office after a quiet knock.

"The department heads are waiting for you, Minister."

"Thank you, Ramona."

"However..." she began, looking a bit nervous.

"Yes?"

"Nicholas Kilborn has requested you excuse his absence. He's on vacation this week."

"And did you explain the circumstances?" Harry asked.

"I told him you were most insistent, Minister. I also asked if he had been made aware of the situation in England as of early this morning, and he confirmed that he got the notice. He said he'd talk to his wife... but... they're in Majorca on holiday..."

"Yes, of course," Harry smiled. Ron shuddered. He knew that smile.

"Ramona," Harry continued as though nothing was wrong. "Can you contact Rita Skeeter at the Prophet offices and tell her that I'd like to speak to her? Say four o'clock this afternoon, here? Ask her nicely and tell her I'm sorry for the short notice."

Ramona nodded, relief apparent on her face that Harry wasn't going to blow up over the absence of the Head of Muggle Relations.

"And, Ramona... one minute...." Harry turned to his father in law. "Arthur, who is second in command under Nicholas Kilborn?"

"Marilyn Prewitt," Arthur answered.

"Ah," Harry smiled. "Relative of Molly's?"

"Distant cousin, by marriage, I believe."

Harry nodded. "Ramona, contact Marilyn Prewitt and tell her her presence is required."

"Yes, Minister."

"And Ramona?"

"Yes, Minister?"

"It's Harry, remember?"

"Yes... Harry," the girl's cheeks burned pink.

"Could you draft whatever needs my signature to remove Nicholas Kilborn as Minister of Muggle Relations and also draft whatever else requires my signature to appoint Ms Prewitt to the the position. Assuming, of course, that she deigns to grace us with her presence."

Ramona swallowed, her eyes going every more round at the tone in Harry's voice.

"Yes, M... Harry," she squeaked.

"Shall we?" Harry indicated the door through to the meeting room, and led the surprised group through.

There were seven people in the room, who all became silent and turned to watch Harry and his entourage enter.

"Minister..." several greeted him with nods and curious looks. The only one who seemed to be even mildly aware of what was going on was Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head of Aurors.

Phineas Ellnore, Minister of the Department of Mysteries, was the first to speak.

"Harry, what on earth is going on?"

"You all read your notices this morning? About the attacks last night?" Harry asked.

"Of course."

"We're about to change some..." Harry looked up as the door opened and a middle aged blonde witch rushed in.

"Minister, I apologize."

She was quickly followed by Ramona, who carried a sheaf of papers to Harry.

"No need to apologize, Ms Prewitt," Harry nodded to a chair, indicating she should sit. "Ramona, stay here, please."

Ramona, who had been about to make good her escape, froze.

Harry read over the first set of papers, then took up a quill and scratched his signature.

"If you wouldn't mind filing that immediately, please?" he said, handing the papers back to her.

She nodded, taking out her wand and running it over the wording on the parchment and then down to Harry's signature, tapped it, and watched as it disappeared.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Harry said, signing the second set of papers and handing them over to Ramona, who repeated what she'd done with the first set. "May I introduce Marilyn Prewitt, our new Minister of Muggle Relations."

There were startled gasps from around the room, and Marilyn Prewitt's jaw literally dropped.

"But..." Phineas Ellnore spoke. "Apologies, Ms Prewitt, I don't mean to suggest you're unqualified, but what happened to Nicholas Kilborn?"

"Nicholas Kilborn has made his priorities clear," Harry stated. "For future reference, I do not accept the excuse of _I'm on holiday_ when our world is under attack. I'm sure any one of the families who were decimated last night would much prefer to have been on holiday in Majorca. In future, no excuses will be accepted unless they _directly_ involve the good of our people. You were all appointed to these positions, you accepted them, knowing full well that responsibility came with the benefits of the offices you accepted. Anyone who is unable or unwilling to accept that is free to leave."

Harry cast an inquiring glance around the room. No one moved.

"I understand that each of us needs to get away occasionally," Harry said, his voice softening. "I understand the need to remove yourself and your family from this, even for a week or two, and forget it's all happening, but we are at war. And, unfortunately, there are no holidays from that. Now, we are about to change some laws, so anyone who thought this would be a quick meeting, I'll give you five minutes to clear your schedules for the day."

* * *

"How did it go?" Ginny asked the trio who returned just before dinner that night.

Arthur and Bill, not attending the later meeting with Rita Skeeter, had returned hours ago. When she'd asked them that question, both had just shaken their heads with exhaustion and gone in search of their wives.

"Don't ask," Ron groaned.

"That woman is... ooh!" Hermione steamed, her brown curls crackling with anger. "How she _dares_ to call herself a journalist...!"

"Yeah. You probably shouldn't have said that to her face, though, Mione," Ron commented. "I noticed it made her worse."

"If that is possible," Harry sighed.

"She is _inept_!" Hermione snapped.

"Yes, but she's also a card-carrying staff member of the Daily Prophet. It's the only way to get anything in that rag guaranteed to be read," Harry said, his voice dull.

"Tough day, love?" Ginny came up behind him, reaching out to rub his shoulders.

"You really have no idea," he groaned as she massaged the kinks out.

"Dad and Bill wouldn't say anything when they got home. Did you get done what needed to be done?"

Ron laughed without a trace of humor, "Oh, yes!"

Harry relaxed into her touch.

"After a bit of... convincing, everyone agreed to the amendments. As of midnight tonight, anyone proven to be a Death Eater or taking part in their activities will be facing a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. Anyone convicted of making a target of a child, children, or a family with a child will get the same."

"And... the other?" Ginny asked hesitantly. She didn't really expect them to have passed an amendment reinstating the High Treason law. It had been abolished too long ago.

"Passed," he said. "Unanimously."

Ginny felt the tension in him. "Come on, love. Why don't you take a nice hot shower before dinner, and relax a bit?"

"Yes," Harry stood, taking her hand. "Ron, Mione, thanks for today. It was easier with you there."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, surprised. Ron smiled.

"You know I've always got your back, Harry."

"I know," he nodded. "And thank you for that."

After they left, Ron turned to Hermione. "I've never seen him like that."

"I..." Hermione shook her head. "You've had more time with him, Ron. I was gone for such a long time, but..."

"But?"

"He's being _reactive_, not _proactive_," she said. "He's not planning for _preventing_ anything from happening, but setting up a system to deal with the problem after it happens."

Ron sighed, understanding. "He's not fighting anymore."

"Well," Hermione looked at the lost look in Ron's eyes. "We'll see. I could be wrong. Come on, let's get cleaned up before your mum calls everyone in for dinner."

Ron stood and stretched. "Well, at least some things never change."

* * *

_And that's chapter three. This one was a lot harder to write than the previous – I think it's because I'm flying by the seat of my pants on this one. I know where it's going, but getting there seems to be taking more effort!_

_Anyhow – I want to thank my lovely reviewers. You're very much appreciated, and your reviews always make me feel good. Thanks!_

_**Shotgunn: **Muggles? Who wants to hear about THEM? LOL – we'll see. There may be an intriguing chapter revisiting Harry's past in the muggle world... I'm working on it._

_**Larna Mandrea:** It takes two to convey emotion, sweets. I enjoy writing it, but it's up to the reader to interpret it, and you seem to be especially good at that, because you ALWAYS comment on the EXACT emotion I'm trying to convey. Thanks for being one of my most loyal readers – and for giving your support in the way you do. Your reviews always make me feel good._

_**James Milamber:** How come whenever I'm feeling discouraged, I can read your reviews and suddenly, I feel great again? Thanks for being there from the first – and for everything else. Jonas and Milamber don't know how lucky they are, not having to serve as muse to an ungrateful cow like me! And come on, you KNOW they call him 'Shack' – they guy is the epitome of cool!_

_**Merlindamage:** Psychic, huh? Maybe you could have a talk with my muse... because I'M not, and she doesn't seem to understand that. As to Malfoy – he's a git. He's always been a git, always WILL be a git, and anyone who thinks otherwise needs to rethink their position on that. Ferretboy/HG pairings make me shudder, and Ferretboy/Ginny pairings make me physically ill. Rant over._

_CQ_


	4. Chapter Four: Fallout

Chapter Four: Fallout

The Daily Prophet offices were very busy the next morning. The day's edition required an extra printing within an hour of release, as everyone wanted their own copy. Rita Skeeter's byline was prominently displayed on the front page, right under a two inch headline which read, "New Minister Reinstates High Treason Laws".

Reactions were mixed. Some talked of how it would set them back two hundred years, to a time when justice meant who could prove innocence the fastest and most convincingly, generally with an exchange of gold. Some talked of how it was about time someone decided to take the hardline on those practicing the Dark Arts. But everyone talked.

Harry stood at his desk, a cup of coffee steaming beside him, looking down on the paper in question. He wasn't talking, but he was certainly questioning his own decision-making. What on earth had he unleashed?

But, inside, he still knew that he had to govern, and his own views on things didn't always correlate well with his role as Minister of Magic. The magical world was in danger, had been repeatedly in danger since the abolishment of these laws. Perhaps the reinstatement of them would serve as discouragement. And for those that were not discouraged, perhaps it would serve as an effective way to keep them from coming back again, and again.

Harry sighed. He knew what he and the other ministers had done yesterday was controversial. And he also knew that, no matter how much agreement and support he had gotten from those ministers, at least in the end, the responsibility for the final outcome would certainly fall squarely on his own shoulders, and his alone. Strangely, he was perfectly okay with that. He had borne worse in his years.

The part that was the worst, the part that had kept him from sleeping last night, the part that made him stay in his study rather than join the rather large and noisy assemblage currently eating breakfast in his dining room, was the thought of what looks he would see on the girl's faces the next time he saw them. Strangely, it wasn't the thought of failing the wizarding world, but the thought of failing his children that bothered him the most.

"Harry?"

He looked up to find Arthur standing in the doorway.

"Arthur, how are you this morning?"

"I'm fine, Harry. I was wondering about you, though."

"I'm fine," Harry said.

"How did you sleep last night?"

"I..." Harry glanced away. "Fine... fine."

"Really?' Arthur said, his blue eyes fixed on the younger man. "I'm surprised. But then, you never cease to surprise me, Harry."

Harry looked up at that.

"You're always so collected, so... without doubt of your own actions. I've never seen someone shoulder as much responsibility as you do, make the decisions you've had to make, and still sleep like a baby."

Harry dropped his gaze again.

"Now, how did you really sleep last night?" Arthur repeated his question.

"Not well," Harry admitted quietly.

"At all?"

"Well..."

"Yes. I thought so. It's not easy, Harry. Leading never is. The fact that you were sleepless last night, after the day you put in yesterday and the changes you made, tells me that I was very, very right in my decision to step down."

"Arthur..."

"Harry, no Minister of Magic ever serves _everyone's_ needs at the same time. Sometimes it will be one faction that agrees with you, sometimes another. Your job is not to please everyone all of the time, but to protect our world and try and govern it in a way that allows the majority of us to live in the way we wish to."

"But..."

"All of us living in constant fear for our families is _not_ the way we wish to live. The steps you've taken since taking office have all been for the best of our people, and based on the people's current concerns. Never question the wisdom of that."

"And what if it all..."

"If it all goes to hell in a handbasket, at least you can say that you _did_ something. Not all of us could say that."

"Arthur, you were one of the best Minister's we've ever had," Harry said.

"No, Harry. I'm not fooling myself. I looked good because I followed Fudge, and Fudge was inept. I didn't make any sweeping changes that changed our world for the good, I just put things right after a group who had made them very, very wrong. I kept our world from self-destructing until you were ready to take over and lead us into the next age. And that is what you are doing, Harry. Every good leader questions their own ability."

"My biggest concern isn't the wizarding world, Arthur. Not like it used to be." Harry admitted quietly.

"I know that, son. And that is as it should be. You're a father now, of course your concerns have changed. But the girls, and the twins, they're part of this world that you're Minister of. Do it for them if they are what motivate you, but do it."

Harry sighed again. Why did it have to be so difficult?

"I just don't want to screw this up."

"You won't, Harry."

"How can you know that?"

"Because," Arthur smiled. "You care. Because you're worried about it. No matter what you do, whatever you do will be more than sufficient, Harry, because you never do half a job."

Harry was silent. Too many people were relying on him. Again.

"Now," Arthur rose and headed to the doorway. "Molly sent me to find you. She said something about kippers and toast, and I wasn't to come back without you. So, make it easy on me, and come along. I'd like some breakfast, and Molly won't allow me any until you're there."

Harry smiled, and followed the older man from the room. He hated kippers, but he loved Molly Weasley.

* * *

"Minister! _Minister!_" Harry made his way through the crowd that had congregated at the main Ministry floo.

"Excuse me, please..." Harry smiled at a short brunette witch who tried to push a recorder in his face.

"Minister, please, if you would just answer a few questions..."

"I'd be more than happy to, but right now, I'm late for a meeting."

"Minister, is it true that..."

"Look," Harry stopped, turning to face the crowd. "The changed made to Wizarding law yesterday were made with the full knowledge and authority of all Ministers.

"Except Nicholas Kilborn!"

Harry turned to see a dark middle aged reporter standing looking at him. "It's common knowledge that he and his family are on vacation in Majorca right now, and this floo was monitored yesterday. Kilborn didn't attend the meeting."

"Nicholas Kilborn," Harry said, "No longer sits as Minister of Muggle Relations," Harry stated. "Marilyn Prewitt took over that position as of yesterday morning."

The noise level escalated. Harry, as politely as possible and with the help of Bill and Ron on either side of him, made a route through the crowd.

"Bloody hell, Harry..." Ron said as they exited the main hall and the crowd congregated there. "Have you even informed Kilborn yet?"

"He was made aware of it as it was done yesterday. He would have received copies of the papers removing him from office," Harry said quietly, continuing on towards his office. As usual, Ramona sat at her desk outside his door.

"Good morning, Ramona."

"Minister," she responded.

Harry looked at her.

"Sorry... Harry," she blushed.

"Now, anything I need to know about?" he asked, picking up a pile of mail from the corner of her desk and sorting through it.

"I believe..." she took a breath, then spoke in an undertone. "Nicholas Kilborn is waiting for you, Harry. He insisted. He was quite..."

"Yes," Harry smiled. Ron cringed again. "I would imagine he is. Inside?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, good. Ramona, can you send in some coffee and... what were those wonderful pastries you found last week?"

"The _bienenstich_?" she asked. "There is a German pastry shop not too far from here..."

"A muggle shop?" he asked.

"Well... yes," she said. "I normally walk to work, and I pass it every day."

"You picked those up?"

"Yes."

"They were wonderful," Harry pulled out his wallet and handed her a couple of bills. "Could you send out for some more?"

"I'll go myself, Minister."

"Do you have a car, Ramona?"

"No," she blushed. "I walk."

"Every day?"

"Yes, of course."

"You don't floo?"

"No, sir. My flat doesn't have access to the floo network."

Harry sighed, a concerned look in his eyes. "I'll need you to be around. Do we have someone who runs errands, that sort of thing?"

"I can get someone from the administration department to go,"

"Do that, and thank you."

Entering his office, flanked by Ron and Bill, Harry spied the tall frame of Nicholas Kilborn standing near the window. He turned as they entered the room.

"Good morning, Kilborn." Harry said, dropping his briefcase on the desk. "Ramona told me you insisted on waiting."

"Just what," Kilborn began. "Do you think you're doing passing new laws without my presence?"

"Your presence was denied to us, Nicholas. You made your choice."

"My _choice_?" the other man spat. "I was on _holiday_ with my _family_, Potter!"

"Yes, and that was your choice. As I informed the others yesterday morning, we're at war, and I don't care if you're invited to tea by the King, when your presence is required for an emergency meeting, you make it."

"I was in _Majorca_!"

"Yes?"

"How was I supposed to get back here for a meeting with _twenty minutes notice_?"

"Apparate?" Harry said. "Floo? Portkey? You _did_ take your emergency portkey with you?"

Each high-level ministry official was given a portkey upon the commencement of their job. For the entire time they served the Ministry, they were required to carry it with them at all times.

Kilborn colored.

"No."

"No?" Harry said, looking closely at the man. "You do realize that that _alone_ gives me grounds to dismiss you?"

"My wife is sick to death of my constantly being called in... I didn't feel it was too much to ask for a week's holiday without an interruption!"

"Well, you'll have to take that issue up with the new Dark Lord, when we manage to nail him down."

"Minister..."

"The fact of the matter is, you were required to be here in your capacity as a ministry official. We required the consensus of all ministers to pass these laws, laws that will protect our people. You refused to join us, thereby telling me that to achieve consensus, I required someone else to stand as Minister of Muggle Relations. I'm sure that Mrs Prewitt will do an exceptional job."

"But..."

"Nicholas, sometimes serving as we do requires that we put our families second. I know how that feels, I know how it tears your guts out. I, of all people, understand that. But _you_ need to understand that I don't call emergency meetings for senseless reasons, and when I do, I mean it. Everyone here needs to understand that. I can't afford to second guess whether or not my Ministers will be available when they're needed. The fact of war is, I can't give you a lot of notice as to when I need you. You were _Minister of Muggle Relations_ and you chose to stay out of the country after an attack that could very well have been fourteen muggles dead..."

"It wasn't! They were bloody halfbloods!"

Harry, Ron and Bill all looked at him, surprised by his choice of words.

"I think you want to rephrase that, Kilborn. Considering that I am a _bloody halfblood_."

Nicholas Kilborn reddened, then cleared his throat.

"I apologise, Minister. My wife..."

"Is your problem," Harry said. "You were needed here. In taking the position of Minister, you made a commitment to make yourself available when you were needed. You failed to live up to that commitment, and I am very sorry about that. However, I do not give second chances. I've learned that in so doing, one sets themselves up for disappointment. I need to have people who I know I can rely on _no matter what_. I've appointed Marilyn Prewitt to take over from you and I have every faith in her. If you would like to continue working for the Ministry, I would suggest you go down to Human Resources and have a talk with them about available positions."

"But I was..."

"I think, after this discussion, there is very little likelihood of your _ever_ working in Muggle Relations again, Kilborn. Consider yourself lucky I don't launch an inquiry after that comment."

With an angry look at Harry, and completely ignoring the others, Nicholas Kilborn strode from the office, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Harry..."

"Just a minute, Ron..." Harry picked up the phone on his desk and dialled. "Yes, this is Harry Potter...yes. I believe you're going to be getting a visit from a very angry Nicholas Kilborn in a few moments. Yes. I want him offered a standard package, three months... yes. If he chooses to apply for any other position within the Ministry, I want him subjected to absolutely every test and investigation you can legally require, and I want to see the results of _all of it _before you even consider offering him a position, I don't care if it's as mail clerk, he doesn't work here without my seeing everything. Right... Thanks."

With that, he hung up the phone, just as Ramona entered the office, a coffee tray in her hands.

"Harry," Ron began again. "You're not going to allow him back in, after that?"

"Hell, no," Harry said. "But I can't require him to answer anything unless he applies for a position, now can I? This way, if he does as I expect him to, and speaks to HR about another job here, I'll be able to find out all kinds of things."

"And what," Bill said, gratefully accepting a cup of coffee from Ramona with a smile. "What do you expect to find out?"

"I don't know, Bill," Harry said. "But I know one thing, if I just refuse to allow him back in, we won't learn anything at all."

As Ramona turned away to head back out, Harry stood and followed her.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll be right back."

Following her out the door, he closed it behind him.

"Minister?" she looked at him curiously. "Was there something else?"

"I need to ask you a question," he said.

"Okay?" she continued to look at him.

"Why don't you floo to work?"

"I don't have a floo in my flat," she said quietly, looking down.

"Why don't you apparate to where you _can_ floo?"

Ramona hesitated.

"Ramona?"

"I can't apparate."

"You can't apparate?"

"I.." she turned bright pink. "I never could. I just... my parents even hired a private tutor... I... can't."

"It happens," Harry said, shrugging. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. However, I have a problem with your walking to work, Ramona."

"Oh, it's very good for me..." she said quickly. "It's good exercise..."

"I know. But you're also the secretary to the Minister of Magic in a time of war, Ramona. You must be careful."

"Yes, sir."

"Are you particularly attached to your flat?" he asked.

"Not really... it was... it was inexpensive, and..."

"London is very expensive, I know. I feel it is important, though, that you live somewhere you can floo from. There may be times I need you at a moments notice. I'll speak to HR, I'm sure that something can be worked out."

"I... thank you, Minister."

"That's Harry, Ramona."

"Yes," she smiled at him. "Of course."

"I'll look into it an get back to you, okay?"

"Thank you. And...Minister?"

"Yes, Ramona?" Harry said in a long-suffering voice. Would the girl never call him by his name?

"I just thought you ought to know..."

"Yes?" Her eyes didn't leave his, and he could see the uncertainty there. "Ramona, what is it?"

"Nicholas Kilborn's wife," she said in a whisper, "Is Lucinda Maddox."

Harry looked at her, his eyes questioning.

"She's the niece of Narcissa Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy's cousin."

Harry took a breath, nodded to his secretary and retreated back into his office. Immediately upon closing the door, he began to pace.

"Merlin!" he said, turning wild eyes to his two most trusted advisors, who were looking at his stunned face with different degrees of surprise.

"Harry?" Ron stood, his hand unconsciously moving to rest on his wand. "What is it?"

"If what I think is going on is going on, then the goddamned Ministry is employing spies, Ron!"

* * *

_I know, I know... two updates in two days... too much!_

_However, this chapter just sort of happened. It wasn't planned this way. Another chapter was supposed to go here, but my muse appears to be taking her job a LITTLE more seriously these days. This part of the story just kind of... appeared. I'm not ENTIRELY happy with the way in which it came about, but I admit to being intrigued as to where it might end up. _

_**Shotgunn: ** I'm intrigued. "Weird conversation about pregnancy"? This I must hear about... as to Ginny, you just never know. Re: Blink 182 – they were in Alberta a while ago... from what I understand, they gave one heck of a show!_

_**Merlindamage: ** Spy in the ORDER? Hush your mouth, love!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** Quidditch pants? LOLOLOL! I think I'm going to have to use that one, sweetie!_

_**Whimsical Firefly: **A NEW wizard? My oh my, no!!! No, no no! You're bordering on heresy there, love! As to the ferretboy thing, I think I can manage to read it for James as a reviewer, and even manage to be objective on the quality of the writing, but I also believe that the female population of Hogwarts should be required to swear an oath to not breed with him. Bloody git._

_**Dkandmax:** More chapters coming up! I'm glad you find it believable. This one is harder than Power of Truth..._

_**James Milamber:** I admit to some small amount of confusion myself at times. There are just so MANY Weasleys!_

_CQ_


	5. Chapter Five: Revelations

Chapter Five: Revelations

"Spies in the Ministry?" Ron said. "What in bloody hell are you talking about?"

"Ramona just told me who _Mrs_ Kilborn is... Lucinda Maddox... Bloody Malfoy's _cousin_!"

"And Kilborn's been Minister of Muggle Relations?" Bill breathed. "Holy hell, Harry..."

"We need to find out if there are any others, Bill. I want a full review of all..."

"There is a much easier way, Harry," Bill said quietly.

"Oh?"

"We flush them out... give them something to chase and see which ones run."

"Bill, in the meantime..."

"Trust me on this, Harry, really," Bill looked at him. "This is why you have me here, right?"

"Right. Okay, do your worst."

"I need to talk to some people," Bill nodded, heading for the door.

"You might start with my bloody secretary, as she seems to have more information than _I do!"_

Bill grinned, opening the door and leaving almost silently. Harry threw himself down on the sofa in the seating area and leaned his head back on the leather upholstery.

"Harry, we'll flush them out," Ron said.

"Ron, I'm so bloody sick of this..."

"I know, mate, but it's bound to happen, isn't it?"

"What?"

"Well, we had Snape spying for all those years. Voldemort definitely had his informants... it's all part of it, isn't it? I mean, not everyone is a Potter or a Weasley, and not everyone is involved in the Order."

At this, Harry's eyes widened, then narrowed.

"Ron, get Hermione here..."

"Harry?"

"I need her to come... tell her we need to discuss... we need to discuss Marietta Edgecombe."

"Marietta...?"

"Please, Ron, I have to make some calls, and I need to speak to Ramona, and I really need you to get Hermione for me."

"Done, mate. Just... we'll get through this, okay?"

"Of course we will, but we might be short a few members when we're done."

Ron left, and Harry picked up his phone. He needed to talk to Snape and McGonagall, but not here.

* * *

When Ron and Hermione appeared at Harry's Ministry office, it was to find Harry sitting in his office with his obviously emotional secretary.

"It's okay, Ramona, it's not a problem, and you'll be safer this way," Harry was saying gently.

"But, Harry..."

"Relax. There's no reason for you to be so upset. And Ramona, if you hear anything, anything at all, I need to know, okay? Like what you told me this morning about Mrs Kilborn."

"Of course, Minister," she nodded, then quickly left the room, leaving Ron and Hermione looking strangely at her retreating back.

"What on earth was that all about?" Hermione came over and sat down at the other end of the leather sofa.

"Ramona lives in an apartment with no floo access, and she is unable to apparate. She's been walking the twelve blocks to work here since she started. I've just put an end to that."

"The secretary to the Minister of Magic has been _walking through Muggle London to work_?" Hermione looked shocked.

"Yes," Harry confirmed.

"So what's the big deal?" Ron said, grabbing a pastry from the tray in front of Harry. "Lots of people walk to work."

"Ron!" Hermione turned to look at him with stunned eyes. "Ramona has access to all _sorts_ of things and information that the Dark Lord would love to get his hands on. She sees _everything_ Harry sees, and knows Harry's schedule. Security should be nearly as tight around her as it is around Harry, for Merlin's sake!"

"Oh." Ron looked surprised for a moment. "Yeah, I guess that's not a good thing, huh?"

"No," Harry agreed. "So I've arranged a new flat for her, it's in a much better part of town, she was living in a rather disgraceful neighborhood. And this has private floo access, so she can come and go as she needs to."

"A ministry flat?" Hermione asked, knowing that the Ministry kept several flats as safehouses and for visiting Ministry officials from other countries.

"No," Harry smiled. "Can you imagine if something like that got out? I mentioned it to Bronwen Michaels in HR to see if something could be done, and she said one of the girls in that department was looking for a flat mate. It sounds like she and Ramona already know and like each other, so it should work out well."

"But Ramona was upset?"

"No, I don't think so," Harry said, his face showing concern. "She was thanking me, and she kind of... well, started crying. I don't think she was angry or upset though..."

Hermione shook her head, "Oh, Harry! Sometimes I think you'll never get a clue."

"What?"

"She was touched, Harry! That you could show concern for her on a personal level."

"Oh," Harry looked thoughtful, then shrugged. "She's a good kid. I didn't like to think of her living in that neighborhood, anyhow, but walking through it to get to work and back each day... it was a security risk."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione looked disgusted. "You know, it's okay to admit that you care about someone's welfare."

"Well, of course I do, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes, then reached into her bag, pulling out an elastic and using it to control her curls.

"Okay, Marietta Edgecombe," she said in her no-nonsense, we're-about-to-get-some-work-done voice. Ron groaned.

"Yes,"

"So, who is under suspicion?"

"I'm concerned..."

"What in bloody hell are you two talking about?" Ron asked.

"Marietta Edgecombe was..."

"I _know_ who she was, Hermione," Ron said impatiently. "I was there too, remember?"

"Well, then why are you asking?"

"I just don't know what she has to do with this, _twenty years later_."

"Ron," Harry interrupted their bickering. "Hermione developed a way for us to tell if anyone betrayed the DA. Now I need the same thing, only on a bit larger scale, and not so detectable."

"Harry?" Hermione looked at him. "Not...?"

"I'm concerned about the Order, Hermione. We may have found a spy in the Ministry, and it's made me think..."

"Harry, you personally know every member of the Order. Who on earth would you suspect?" Hermione looked shocked.

"I wouldn't have suspected Marietta, Hermione," Harry said bitterly. "She was a Ravenclaw, and at the time, we believed that unless you were Slytherin you were with us. We were wrong. I just don't want to run the risk of it... now."

"Harry, sometimes you have to have faith in the people around you," Hermione said sadly. "I've only been back two years, and I would trust any member of the Order with my life, with the lives of those I love. If you don't have faith, Harry, that your friends are really your friends, you have nothing."

"Hermione, we have some suspicion that a _very_ senior member of the Ministry, namely the man who held the position of Minister of Muggle Relations until yesterday, is a spy for the Dark."

Hermione's eyes rounded with shock.

"I... to find out something like this... it's a shock. This man has been in the Ministry for years. He served under Arthur. To find out... it shakes your belief in those around you."

"But Harry..."

"I trust you implicitly. I trust Ron. I trust pretty much anyone with the last name 'Weasley'. I don't trust many others to that degree."

Hermione looked at him sadly for a moment, then spoke. "Harry, sometimes you have to stop and tell yourself to believe in people, even when there is no evidence that you should. It's a risk we take. It's faith in people. Please, Harry..."

Harry looked at her, then turned and looked out the window. "Sometimes faith doesn't do it, Mione. Sometimes, when you have faith in someone, they fail you."

"Yes, Harry, sometimes they do. It happens, but to stop believing in the good in people... Harry, don't do that to yourself."

Harry sighed, then turned and looked at her. "I believe in you, and Ron. If you two have faith in all of the members of the Order, then... well, I've always trusted your judgment."

"Oh, Harry!" Mione wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"But the Ministry... we're going to be looking further into it here, and anyone found guilty of spying for the Dark here will be charged under the High Treason laws."

Hermione nodded in tearful agreement, "Of course!"

"And I want you to talk to Bill about what you did in school, with Marietta. Maybe he can find a way to link an alarm to employment contracts..."

"Harry, do you really think there might be more?" Ron asked. "Just because Kilborn is married to a Malfoy..."

Hermione gasped.

"Ron, one thing I've learned over the years is that there is never, ever, just one Dark Wizard," Harry said tiredly, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Where there is one, there are always more. We just have to find them."

* * *

"Malcolm? What are you doing, love?"

"Writing a letter," the blond man said, turning and smiling at his wife of ten years.

"To who?" she asked, placing a cup of tea on the table to his left.

"To my cousin," he said quietly.

"Your cousin?" the woman's surprise was genuine. The day of their wedding, there had been he, his mother and her. She was without family, and barring his mother, she had assumed for the twelve years she'd known him that he was, as well. "I didn't know you had a cousin."

"Yes," Malcolm said sadly, eying the trunk in the corner by the sliding glass doors. The last of the things left by his mother to be dealt with. In the three months since her death, it had been stored in his garage. "Yes, I do have a cousin."

"Why haven't you told me before?" she asked. "Your mother never mentioned you had any other family."

"Oh, I don't. Just..."

"I don't understand," she said, confused.

"Well, love, when I was a child I was... well, I wasn't very nice to him. Nor were my parents. And... he chose to leave us when he reached his age of majority. I've not heard from him since."

"He lived with you?"

"Yes. My parents raised him."

"But..."

"Come here, love," Malcolm said gently, pulling out the chair next to him. "Sit down, and let me tell you about my cousin, Harry."

* * *

_Okay, shortie chapter. Things seem to be mixing themselves up a bit – bits and pieces from other already planned chapters are infiltrating my writing... bloody muse. So, as much as I have the outcome of this story already firmly outlined in my head, it would appear that even I am going to be surprised at how we get there._

_To my wonderful reviewers... I love you all. You brighten my days!_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** I think the whole employment thing is pretty much the same – Lord knows you're not allowed to ask ANYTHING of a personal nature in our world on a work application, so I don't imagine "Are you or anyone you know involved in the Dark Arts and/or a branded Death Eater?" would be an acceptable question on the Ministry application. As for the other, no one can replace Harry in my little world, so forget about it!_

_**Shotgunn:** I'm rolling on the floor laughing. I can just IMAGINE that conversation... sometimes I wonder if men have ANY idea of how uncomfortable the later stages of pregnancy are. Imagine carrying a bowling ball around, pushing up your ribs and sitting on your bladder... and add to that swollen ankles and an overabundance of nasty hormones... and the fact that whenever you eat something, you have to sit a foot and a half away from the table. Get the picture? Right!_

_**Saerry Snape:** I hope you're talking about plot developments and not my writing style. _

_**Merlindamage:** Muse thanked. And, hey, pull a "Harry" and fire your muse if they're not coming back on demand! I believe Kilborn still has a small part to play... but hey, I've been wrong before!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** Ramona is definitely a very special person. We'll see where it goes. It may not be in this story to tell – always depends on the muse, I guess! 'Peace, love, and french fries'? I think I'd like your friend!_

_CQ_


	6. Chapter Six: The Anniversary

Chapter Six: The Anniversary

October 31st dawned cool and sunny. As a professor of Hogwarts, Harry would be attending the Halloween Ball there that evening. This would be the first year that Muggle students would attend, so Ginny's presence, not only as Harry's wife, but as staff herself, was expected.

The day always held a note of sadness for Harry as it was, in fact, the anniversary of his parents' murder. This year would mark the thirty-sixth anniversary of their deaths.

As he dressed that night, he thought about how his life had changed, even over the last two years. Two Halloweens ago, he had not been married, nor had he been a father. He had resigned himself to never having a family of his own. This year, he had five children and a wife he had adored since adolescence. How swiftly a life could change.

As he finished buttoning his formal robes, he caught a glimpse of red in the mirror. Ginny was in their en suite, putting the final touches on her own preparations. As she passed the doorway yet again, Harry saw the red ringlets piled atop her head, the long white throat, the slim figure in her new green formal robes.

She was as beautiful at thirty six as she had been at fifteen. One would not be able to tell from looking at her that she had born five children, or that she was old enough to have a child graduating Hogwarts this year.

Meg, seventh year Gryffindor and Head Girl. Harry had never been so proud as he was the moment she had presented him with that letter last summer. Ginny had glowed in the background with maternal pride, but it had been Harry to whom Meg had presented her letters.

That was the day she'd asked him if she could call him 'Dad'. Harry had hugged her tightly, unshed tears in his eyes, and agreed quickly before she could change her mind. He'd cried in Ginny's arms later that nigh in the privacy of their room.

But now, right now, at this moment, his wife of a year and a half was walking toward him, her eyes sparkling, her robes swaying with each step, looking entirely too beautiful to be a woman with five children.

"How about we just skip the Ball and get right to the good stuff?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"You would break Megan's heart," Ginny said. "She's looking forward to dancing with her father."

Harry swallowed nervously, "I forgot about that."

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not that good a dancer, Ginny. You're fully aware of that. Remember the Yule Ball?"

"Don't worry, love," Ginny grinned. "I don't think they dance like that anymore."

With this, she picked up her wrap and, winking at him mischievously, turned and left the room, leaving Harry to consider what horrors the night might bring, by way of the expectations of his two eldest daughters.

Molly was in the kitchen and she gasped as they entered. "Don't you look lovely?"

Harry smiled down at his wife.

"Doesn't she?" He commented.

"I was referring to the both of you, love," Molly laughed. "You look very dashing tonight, Harry."

Harry ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, messing it up further.

"We need to go," Ginny said. "Minerva wanted us to meet her in her office five minutes ago."

"I hate the floo," Harry grumbled.

"I know, love, but we have to. Come along," Ginny turned to her mother. "Mum, don't let the twins wear you out. Hermione has offered to help, please, let her."

"You go, and have a good time," Molly dismissed them. "We'll be fine. Say hello to my girls."

One minute later, Harry emerged from the floo in Minerva's office, coughing but thankful he'd managed to stay upright. Ginny stepped out behind him effortlessly.

He hated flooing.

"Next time, you floo," he growled. "I'm apparating."

"Children, children...." Minerva's voice drifted over the them. The regal headmistress was wearing a royal purple robe, her steel-grey hair in it's customary tight bun. "No bickering, please."

"Minerva," Ginny smiled, casting a sidelong look at Harry. "I apologize for our lateness. Harry was primping."

Harry gave a yelp of disbelief as his wife smiled wickedly at him.

"Give it up while you're young, Harry," Severus' voice came from the corner where he stood, placing a small glass on a tray. "You will never win, so don't even try. Retire with grace."

"And you are suddenly an expert, Sev?" Harry asked with a grin. "You're more of a confirmed bachelor than Remus, and that's saying something."

"I live and work in the midst of several hundred hormonal pre-women, Potter," Snape said dryly. "Ninety percent of the staff is female. Trust me, I do have some experience in this."

Harry shook his head, a smile on his face. Severus may be a confirmed bachelor, but he had a point.

"Shall we?" Minerva opened the door.

The decorations were everywhere, no longer limited to the Great Hall apparently. There were scarecrows and pumpkins through the halls, and as they got to the Entrance Hall, they could see candles and fall leaves lining the pathway towards the doors of the Great Hall.

Entering there, they found what seemed to be hundreds of jack-o-lanterns lighting the room, with displays of pumpkins and baskets of fall apples everywhere. The ceiling was enchanted, with a full moon hanging overhead, clouds whisping eerily across it.

"Min, it's lovely..." Ginny said.

"Yes, our head girl and boy and their prefects outdid themselves this year," Minerva agreed.

Ginny smiled to herself. Meg, ad Head Girl, and Mary as a prefect, had both been involved in the decorating, then.

"Mum! Dad!" Harry and Ginny both turned to see Maddy running up to them, a dark haired boy in tow.

"Madeline! What are you doing down here?" Ginny asked. Balls were for fourth year students and above, while Maddy was only in third year.

"This is Denny Samuels, Mum. He's in fifth year and he asked me to come with him."

Ginny felt Harry stiffen beside her.

"Really?" he asked coolly.

_Uh oh._

Stepping forward and putting out her hand, hoping to circumvent the explosion she was expecting from her side, she smiled. "Denny, it's very nice to meet you."

"Ma'am. Sir," the boy nodded. Ginny smothered the smile that came to her lips. Poor Denny was looking at Harry as though he was expecting to be hexed at any moment.

"You look very familiar, Denny," Ginny said, trying to lessen the tension.

"You went to school with my mum, I think," the boy nodded again. "Parvati Patil?"

"Oh, yes. Of course," Ginny glanced at Harry. "She was in Harry's year. I believe you took her sister, Padma, to the Yule Ball one year, didn't you, Harry?"

"Aunt _Padma_?" Denny looked shocked, turning to Harry and forgetting to be nervous. "You dated my _Aunt Padma_?

"No," Harry said, eying the boy's hand which was clasped in Maddy's. "We went to the Yule Ball one year together. Fourth year, I believe. We never... dated."

Ginny, openly grinning now at the look on Harry's face, considered her work done. Sometimes it did a man a great deal of good to be reminded of a past humiliation.

At that moment, their two eldest daughters approached, each with a young man. Meg's date appeared quite comfortable, but Mary's date, a young man with hair red enough to rival the Weasley clan's, looked just about ready to faint.

"Hello, mum. Hello, Daddy," Mary wrapped her arm around Harry's waist. He caught the mischievous flicker in her eyes as she did this, glancing at her now near-hyperventilating date.

_That's my girl_, Harry thought. _You keep him off balance. He won't get too confident then..._

"Dad, Mum, this is Eric Richards," Meg introduced the young blonde man standing next to her, who immediately held out his hand to shake. Harry took it, noting it was firm. Just for fun, he subjected Eric to his intense green stare.

Grown aurors had wilted under that stare. Eric merely smiled.

"Sir, Mrs Thomas," he greeted them.

"Mrs Potter, Eric," Ginny corrected before the flash of light in Harry's eyes could translate itself into words.

"Oh... I... Yes, of course," Eric's ears pinkened. "I apologize."

"No need," Ginny smiled.

"Dad?" Meg said, pulling Harry's attention from the all-too-familiar behaving young man at her side. "You promised me the first dance?"

"Of course, Meg," Harry nodded, his eyes sliding suspiciously back to the blonde boy.

"Well," Meg said brightly. "The dinner is about to start, and I believe that Professor McGonagall has reserved spots for you at the staff table."

"Thank you, love," Ginny squeezed her daughter's hand. "We'll talk later?"

Med nodded in agreement. With a last hug, Mary pulled her date forward, and quickly said, "This is Michael Prewitt... bye!"

"Prewitt?" Harry said as Mary hastened away, her red-haired boyfriend behind her. "Did she say 'Prewitt'?"

"My mother's family is extensive, Harry."

"He's _family_?"

"Not close enough to matter, love," Ginny smiled. "My mother's immediate family were all wiped out in the first rising. He's probably the grandson of a second cousin or something."

"But..."

"Relax, Harry," Ginny said as they made their way to the head table.

"I don't think I like that Richards kid," Harry grumbled.

"Yes, I noticed," Ginny tried not to giggle.

"He's far too confident for seventeen," Harry said, then stopped dead. "Why would he be that confident with Meg?"

"Harry..."

"Gin, you know what we were... when we were seventeen... we were..."

"Sixteen, love, and I was fifteen."

Harry made a strange, strangled noise and began to debate the wisdom of turning back around and pummeling a seventeen year old in the middle of the Great Hall.

No. Outside would be better. Later, with fewer witnesses. Then he could really scare the snot out of the little...

"Harry," Ginny was saying. "Meg and I have discussed this. It's nothing for you to worry about."

Harry, who still had images of a certain third floor broom closet floating through his head, followed. Sixteen... fifteen... Ginny had only been fifteen?

Mary was fifteen!

"Ginny! Mary is..."

"I've spoken to her, too, love. Relax." She patted him on the arm.

"And what, exactly, was that fifth year kid doing asking Maddy to the Ball? She's only thirteen!"

"She'll be fourteen in January, Harry. I'm sure they're just friends."

Fourteen in January... then fifteen!

"But there's... he's too..."

"Harry!" Ginny sat down, pulling him into the seat next to her. "If you embarrass our girls tonight, they'll never forgive you. And I certainly won't be very _forgiving_ later."

She gave him a very meaningful look and Harry took a deep breath. Ginny angry was never a good thing. Harry had a sudden image of himself chaperoning the dance while suffering the effects of a stellar bat-bogey hex.

No, Ginny angry was never a good thing. But...

"Problem?" Snape's voice, laced with amusement, came from the seat next to Harry.

"No," Ginny said firmly.

"Sev," Harry said calmly. "Who the hell is this Richards kid, and why is he touching my daughter?"

"Harry!"

"And the Samuels kid... Denny. I don't remember a Samuels here when I was at school. The kid says his mother is..."

"Harry!"

"Why, Mr Potter," Snape smirked, behaving very unlike himself. "Who is concerned about bloodlines now?"

"I think it's about time I had a little talk with McGonagall about the coed dorms..." Harry said, mostly to himself.

Ginny and Snape burst out laughing.

"What?" Harry looked at them both.

"Whatever does go on in this school, Potter," Snape said, an evil smile on his face. "Very little of it actually happens _in the dorms_. As I'm sure you remember."

Harry turned red to his ears. Ginny giggled and Snape took a sip of his wine.

Harry fumed. Perhaps locks on all the empty classrooms and broomclosets would be a good idea, as well.

* * *

After the meal, and Minerva's short speech welcoming the guests and reinforcing a few school rules, the music began. The large dance floor in the middle of the room began to fill, and Harry stood.

"Excuse me, I've promised this dance," he nodded to the others and made his way to the table where Meg had been sitting.

"Megan?" he put his hand on her shoulder. She had been talking with three other girls, who all looked up at him, their curiosity turning to embarrassed awe as they recognized him.

"Hi, Dad," she smiled, standing, and putting her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor and pulled her gently into his arms. Thankfully, it was music he could dance to.

"I was concerned," he began hesitantly, feeling Meg stiffen a bit in his arms. "That I wouldn't know how to dance to the music. I'm glad they chose to start with something that an old guy like me knows."

Meg relaxed, laughing. "The newer stuff will come later, so if you're going to ask Mary and Maddy to dance, I would suggest sooner rather than later. The music later on will get a little more... contemporary."

Harry swallowed, considering the possibilities.

Meg laughed again. "You're not old. All the girls in my year think you're gorgeous."

Harry colored. What exactly did one say to something like that?

"Some of them even have posters of you in the dorm..." Meg teased.

Harry turned shocked eyes down to her. Posters?

"Posters?" he said weakly. When the hell had pictures been taken for _posters_?

"Well, not of you, exactly. Posters from those movies they made about you. It's really the actor that plays you... but I must say, there seems to be a striking resemblance..."

"There isn't!" Harry said quickly.

Meg giggled, "You're so incredibly easy to tease!"

Harry, his red ears almost glowing, pulled her closer and danced away with her. He didn't notice the table of seventh year girls who gave a collective sigh as they moved out of sight.

After delivering Meg back to her friends, with a look at Eric Richards that promised extreme and lengthy pain should he step out of line, Harry nodded politely to the others and left.

Taking Meg's advice, he went in search of his second stepdaughter. He found her in the midst of a group of boys, talking about Quidditch.

"Mary?"

"Hi, Daddy!" she smiled, looking up at him. "We were just talking about your sixth year Cup game!"

"Where you pulled that Wronski Feint..." one of the boys looked at Harry with something akin to hero worship. "I never knew anyone could do something like that... unless you played for a league team!"

"My dad _could_ have played internationally," Mary said proudly. "But he was a bit busy at the time."

Harry, taking note of the look on the Prewitt kids' face, smiled, then held out his hand to Mary.

"Dance, love?"

Mary's face lit up, "Really?"

Harry nodded, and she took his hand.

"So," he said, dancing her around the floor. "Tell me about this Prewitt kid."

"Oh, Daddy!" Mary said dismissively. "We play Quidditch together. He's a chaser. Neither of us had a date, so we decided to come together."

Harry felt rather better... at least until he glanced over to where Mary's group of friends were standing to find the Prewitt kid's eyes on her. Maybe Mary thought they were 'just friends', but Harry had an idea that the boy had other ideas.

Ideas that Harry would squash like a bug, if given the opportunity.

"Just friends?" he asked.

"Well..." she smiled in a way that reminded Harry of her mother. "For now."

"Hmmm," Harry murmured. "Well, if he gets out of line, I know a couple of really good undetectable hexes I could show you..."

"Daddy!" Mary exclaimed.

"Well... it's not easy to see you out with a boy," Harry complained.

Mary squeezed him to her in a tight hug. "He's just a nice boy, Dad. And he's really nervous around you... although I really don't understand why. So be nice."

"Of course!" Harry smiled.

"I..." Mary's smile faded. "I really like him. A lot. I just..."

"Mary," Harry looked gently down at her. "I won't embarrass you, or him, love."

"Thanks, Dad," she blushed.

"At least, not intentionally."

"Daddy!"

The song ended, and Harry led her back to the group. The young men would have pulled him into a discussion about Quidditch, but Harry, aware of Meg's warning, went in search of Maddy.

He found the red-haired sprite in the middle of another group of fifth years with a blonde girl who looked to be younger, as well.

"Hi, Daddy!" she said. "This is my friend, Julie Edgecombe."

"Julie," Harry held out his hand to greet her. Formally, she took it and smiled.

"Mr Potter. It's very nice to meet you."

"Edgecombe?" Harry looked down at her. "I knew a..."

"My aunt Marietta, yes," Julie nodded gravely. Harry noticed the girl's spine straighten. "I'm a member of the DA in good standing, sir."

Harry smiled down at her. "We aren't all responsible for our relatives... actions, Julie. Or our own actions when we're young and impressionable. Anything that your aunt did was forgiven long ago. How is Marietta?"

Julie glanced away, then back to him, her gaze firm. "She's dead, sir."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Harry swallowed. "I didn't know."

"No... it's... she... we didn't have much to do with her after she married."

"Oh," Harry nodded, really not understanding at all, but knowing he didn't want to take the conversation any further. "So, you're in Gryffindor, as well, then?"

"No, sir. I'm in Ravenclaw," she said. "Like my mum. That's where she met Dad. He was younger than my aunt."

Harry vaguely remembered a skinny blonde kid named Graham Edgecombe.

"It was nice to meet you, Julie," Harry turned to Maddy. "Dance with me, smidgen?"

Maddy grinned and took his hand. At six-two, nearly six-three, Harry dwarfed the girl, who stood no taller than five foot, but he held her easily, guiding her around the floor.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed your friend, Maddy."

"It's okay," Maddy shrugged. "She's used to it."

"Used to it?" Harry asked, shuddering at the thought of a mere child getting _used to_ taking the blame and suspicion for her aunt's actions two decades earlier.

"Everyone knows about her aunt. I guess she wasn't a very nice person. Julie's Dad didn't have much to do with her before she died. She married a Death Eater."

"Oh," Harry was surprised. He wondered which one. "Her life at Hogwarts wasn't easy, love. She was... she didn't make friends very easily and the other girls... well, Cho Chang was the closest thing she had to a friend, and even she was... difficult."

"But she betrayed you, and the DA!"

"She was doing what she thought she ought to do. After that, no one would speak to her. I'm not surprised that she ended up married to a Death Eater. She must have felt very alone. And that makes people... susceptible."

Maddy sighed. "It was hard for Julie at first. Everyone who heard her last name asked her if it was her mother... Julie didn't have many friends until the end of last year."

"What happened then?"

"She stood up in front of the entire DA and told the story, and about how she was not her aunt. I was really proud of her."

"You were?"

"She was my best friend, and it took a lot of courage to do that."

"You were best friends even then?" Harry asked, getting an inkling of his stepdaughter's personality that he'd never recognized before.

"Sure. We've been best friends since first night. When I fell out of the boat, Julie grabbed me and pulled me back in."

Harry laughed. Maddy was certainly a live wire. He could just imagine her leaning over the side of her boat, trying to get a glimpse of the giant squid that was said to live in the lake, and ending up over the side.

It was as the music ended and Harry returned Maddy to her friends that he noticed Ginny gesturing to get his attention. Bill and Ron stood next to her.

Harry's blood suddenly ran cold. What now?

* * *

"I'm sorry, Harry," Bill's voice came from behind him as Harry surveyed the scene. "We always have aurors monitoring the area. Tonight, well... it happened quickly, between checks."

"I want them found, Bill," Harry said in a deadly quiet voice. "They will pay for this."

Bill was silent. The man in front of him, wearing faded jeans and leather boots and jacket, his hair even messier than usual from repeatedly running his hands through it, and the hard glint in his eyes, didn't look much like the man who he'd watched dancing his thirteen year old stepdaughter around the Hogwarts dancefloor two hours earlier.

"They've hurt them for the last time," Harry said. "I'll kill Malfoy myself for this."

He turned away from the opened graves in front of him. The bones that had been removed from the two coffins lay scattered around the gaping holes in the earth.

"I want it put back the way it was," he requested simply. "I... who do I...?"

"It will be taken care of, Harry," Ron said gently. "I'm going to talk to Shack about posting additional security here, as well..."

"Don't bother. The bastard has made his point," Harry tapped a white envelope against his leg. "I'm sure that this is all that will happen right now."

"But..." Bill began.

"It's the anniversary of their death, Bill. Any other night wouldn't do it for him. He's making a point, and by next year, it won't matter, because he'll be dead."

Bill watched the other man as he walked a few feet away, and took a deep breath before disapparating away.

"I would hate to be Malfoy when Harry catches up with him," Ron muttered beside him.

"Anyone who could do something like this deserves all the fires of hell unleashed on them," Bill observed.

"Ah... Malfoy won't be quite so lucky, mate," Ron smiled grimly. "He's going to be praying for an eternity in hell before Harry's done with him. Harry's been saving it up for a lot of years."

Harry sat in his study through the night. Ginny came in a few times and he clung to her for moments before retreating again into his own head. Thoughts of his parents, the state of their graves... the letter...

The letter. A note, really. Two lines.

_You are the last of your line, Potter. I will see to it._

Harry, thinking of his young son and daughter asleep upstairs, cringed. The threat might be empty, but...

Minerva. She would know. And Snape... he knew more about the Old Magic than any other wizard alive.

By dawn, Harry knew what he had to do. The magic that had been used to protect him as a child was now about to be used again. And when he caught up with Malfoy, there would be hell to pay.

* * *

_My lovely reviewers, you're very much appreciated – thank you so much for your comments!_

_**Shotgunn:** "My" kind? We'll talk later, love. After being through the horrors of childbirth twice, I can honestly tell you, unless you've been there, done that, you can never truly know squat about "my kind". Ask your sisters, I'm sure they'll illustrate the point for you in technicolor (evil grin). As to Ginny... we'll see. And Ramona? A spy? Hmmm... suspicious little soul, aren't you? Harry is ALWAYS like that – totally oblivious to the effect his own actions have on other people's emotions, when it's in any positive way. And you know FULL WELL that I don't use red herrings... well, much. _

_**Larna Mandrea:** I do believe that that is the first time I've been serinaded!_

_**UnRealityCheck**: I think that Harry is indeed growing into his role... I'm glad it's coming across!_

_**Kaylee-Smith:** James is wonderful. HPMM is a wonderful story, and I couldn't have possibly continued this without him. No... not Draco... I really hope I didn't give that impression! There will be more Malcolm in an upcoming chapter... Harry has to get over his past._

_**Whimsical Firefly:** I think it's important to the story to tie up "loose ends" and Harry's relationship with his aunt's family is definitely a "loose end"!_

_**Merlindamage:** No, ferretboy didn't marry a muggle. At least, not to my knowledge! More on Malfoy and his fate later... I think there may be a whole chapter on that, actually!_

_CQ_


	7. Chapter Seven: The Blood Oath

_Okay, folks, I give you fair warning, this chapter has some rather corny scenes – so don't flame me on it. It's the way it came out, so I can only assume it's as it should be._

_Besides, it works._

_Also, I must humbly apologise – one of my reviewers were kind enough to point out that, in canon, Harry went to the fourth year Yule Ball with PARVATI Patil, while Ron escorted her sister from Ravenclaw, Padma. As it is now a detail of my story that has been expanded upon, let's just pretend it's another one of those details that were reported wrong in the first place, shall we? I know – I'm playing with canon, and JKR is my goddess who will eventually punish me severely for being so presumptious as to CHANGE details of her work, but... shoot me later. Preferably after this story is finished?_

_CQ_

* * *

Chapter Seven: The Blood Oath

"They must always be in the care of one bound to them by blood," Snape explained in the kitchen. "And each guardian must take the oath."

"Oath? But my aunt didn't..." Harry was confused. Was Snape using some different type of spell?

"She took the oath, Harry," Snape said shortly.

"She _what_?"

"She took the guardian oath. To die for your protection."

"She never!" Harry breathed. There was _no way_...

"Yes, she did," Snape stated. "I was there. Whether or not she took it seriously... well, it was done."

"But my mother... she knew? About my father... about...?" Harry was shocked. He'd always believed that his mother was oblivious to the magical world, that his father had kept it from her for her safety.

"Lily and James chose to live as muggles, Harry, but that doesn't mean that Lily was unaware of our world."

"I always thought he might have kept it from her," Harry mused.

"No. James..." Snape took a breath. "Well, he chose to live that way for your protection."

"So my mother made an actual magical oath?"

"Yes. As did your aunt, and your father."

"My uncle?"

"The blood must be shared," Snape said simply.

Harry nodded and turned to Ginny. "You understand what it is that we're about to do?"

Ginny nodded gravely. "Of course I do, Harry."

"The kids... they must be with you or I at all times, until they come of age, or until the danger is past."

"Or me," Molly said. "I'll be taking the oath as well, Harry."

"Molly..." Harry began. "There are risks..."

"Harry James Potter! Do you think that I wouldn't take that risk? Happily?"

"It's a lot of blood, Molly."

"I don't care," she said firmly. "A cup of tea and a kip afterwards, and I'll be fine."

Harry pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. "Thank you."

"Arthur, as well," Molly held out her hand to her husband, who took it with a smile.

"I'm in, as well, Harry," Ron was rolling up his sleeve, looking at the evil-looking knife Snape was preparing.

"Ron?" Harry looked at him.

"You really expect me to not?" Ron asked.

"I don't..."

"Every blood Weasley in the room has agreed, Harry, so shut up," Charlie said. "We're all taking it."

"And I am, too," Hermione said, stepping forward and picking up Snape's knife.

"Mione..."

"I helped bring them into this world, Harry. If a little blood is all that's keeping me out, well..."

With this, she used the knife to slice open the palm of her hand. Without flinching or losing eye contact with Harry, she held the knife out to him.

"Am I your sister? Or are you just chicken?"

Harry glanced at Severus, who was watching him carefully. At the old Potion Master's nod, Harry turned back to Hermione and smiled, his unasked question answered. He silently drew the knife across his own palm, then held it out to her. She clasped it as they stared into each others eyes. To his surprise, Harry felt Snape's hands on theirs, as he muttered a short incantation. Harry felt a moment of tingling warmth which disappeared when Snape let go.

"Hermione discussed this with me earlier, when I approached her to assist with the potion," Snape explained. "It's an ancient tribal spell. It was used when girls of the tribe were married off to neighboring tribes. They were made true siblings with their mates siblings with this, the exchange of blood, thus ensuring their loyalty to their new family. You're now siblings, as though born of the same mother."

Ginny stepped forward and performed a quick healing spell. The cuts healed over, leaving red welts that would heal in time.

"Are we ready?" Snape inquired, brandishing his knife.

"Ready," Ginny said, holding out her arm.

It took longer than they had expected, as so many had chosen to take part. First, Harry and Ginny, then Ron, and Hermione, and then Molly and Arthur. After that, each of the four remaining Weasley men stepped forward, sleeves rolled up. They each swore the oath as the blood flowed from the cuts Snape made.

Amelia and Janie handed out cups of hot, sweet tea and biscuits while Anna and David Jennings watched curiously.

When Snape had the required amount of blood from each of them, he added it to the cauldron containing the other potion ingredients and mixed it well. Within minutes, it bubbled and turned clear. He decanted it into three bottles and corked them.

"The children must be bathed in water containing this for the next three days. Use one bottle each day in lukewarm bathwater," he said as he gathered up his things, packing them away into his potions bag. "Bathe them together. They must be kept in the treated water for at least twenty minutes each day."

"And then?" Ginny asked quietly.

"And then, so long as they are in the care of one who took the oath, they are safe."

"Severus?" Harry held out his hand to shake. "Thank you."

Snape, looking uncomfortable, nodded and picked up his bag, disapparating with a pop.

* * *

"I've never seen him like this. In the two years..." Hermione shook her head as she paced in her small room. "And I don't remember him being like this... before."

"Because he wasn't," Ron stated, laying back on the bed, his eyes closed.

"Never?" she asked, pausing to look over at him.

"Never. He's... different."

"Different? Different how?"

"_Different_ different," Ron opened his eyes to look at her. "I mean, he's always been pretty intense, but this..."

"Ron," Hermione said. "Do you think it's because..."

"Because what?" he asked when she hesitated.

"Well... because..." Hermione swallowed. "Because it's Malfoy... because of Lucius?"

"You mean because he was the one who killed Harry's parents?"

"Yes."

"I don't know, Mione. Harry's always been... well, I wouldn't say unaffected, but..." Ron shrugged. "I think it's got more to do with... well, you know... Draco, and..."

"Dumbledore?"

"And you," Ron agreed. "Harry's always been really protective of you. When you were in the hospital wing at the school, after the final battle, we had to hold Dean and Seamus back from tearing Malfoy to shreds. Harry was really quiet, but after we got those two calmed down... well, I tried talking to Harry, and he just... he just stood up and walked out. Bill and the twins and I followed him. It... well, it was a good thing we did. He almost took on three aurors to get to Draco while they were getting him ready to go to Azkaban. I... he looked over at me, and I've... I've never seen so much hatred in someone's eyes. He was literally glowing with it."

"What happened?"

"Just before they apparated with Draco, he said something to Harry. Something like, 'next time Potter', or something. You know Draco. And Harry..." Ron paused, looking blankly at the ceiling.

"What?"

Ron closed his eyes for a moment. He remembered the scene vividly, the twins, Bill and himself all doing their damnedest to hold Harry back while he spoke in that low, dangerous voice...

_I'll dance on your grave, Malfoy. Someday, somehow, I swear to all that is holy, I'll see you dead and dance on your grave..._

Ron shook himself from the memory and told Hermione.

"Ever since," Ron said quietly as she took in what he had said. "Ever since, he's been... Malfoy is more than just a thorn in his side. But now... Mione, I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Scared of what will happen when Harry finds him. Voldemort was pure evil, Mione, but Harry didn't have a history with him like he does with Malfoy. It's difficult to hate someone you've barely met with enough passion to kill them, but..."

"And does Harry hate Malfoy that much?"

"That's what scares me," Ron admitted. "That Harry has that much hatred stored up. You remember how it was when he faced Voldemort the final time, the power... I'm not sure I want to be there when he lets loose on Malfoy. It's going to be... unbelievable."

* * *

The following morning, Harry slipped quietly from their room and made his way down to the kitchen.

"Harry?"

"Oh," he looked up from the kitchen counter to see Hermione slip into the room. "Good morning. I was just making Ginny tea. Would you...?"

"I would love a cup," she smiled. Harry seemed different, again, this morning. "You okay?"

"Fine," Harry nodded, pushing a cup towards her.

"Harry..."

"Hmm?" he looked up at her. His green eyes seemed... flat, somehow.

"I'm worried."

"About what, exactly?" he smiled ruefully. "And you have to choose just one."

She smiled back, then took a breath. "Okay. You."

"Me?" he looked genuinely surprised.

"Yes, you."

"Why?"

"Why?" she laughed. "Oh, let's see... you're the Minister in a time of war, the wanna-be Dark Lord has targeted you, your parent's graves have been desecrated, your children have been threatened, you're committing political suicide to protect us, you're more concerned about everyone else's welfare than your own... shall I go on?"

Harry sighed, sitting down in a kitchen chair and waiting for her to take the one across from him.

"Mione, I appreciate your concern, but really, I'm fine. Things are seriously screwed up right now, but... I'll deal with it."

"That's the worst part, Harry. You always 'deal with it'. You're not alone, and I..."

"What?"

Hermione turned tear-filled eyes to him, which startled him. She didn't often cry.

"Harry, when we fought Mahood, it was different. You called on resources and got the job done. This time... you're more like you were in seventh year, Harry. Before the final battle."

"How so?"

"Like when you were expecting to die," she stated bluntly.

He flinched.

"It's true, Harry! You had lost faith then in your ability to survive. It think you've lost faith now in _our_ ability to survive."

"Not yours," Harry said tiredly. "Mine. I'm tired, Mione. Tired of fighting, tired of being the one. I just wanted a life... with Ginny, and our children. All I ever wanted was a family, and to grow old in peace. I'm not going to get that."

"How can you say that?"

Harry stared at her for a long minute, then sighed again.

"Swear to me," he said quietly. "That this goes no further, Hermione. I mean it.... no further, ever."

Hermione, concerned, nodded. "Of course, Harry. What is it?"

Harry glanced at the door and cast a swift privacy charm, then, looking back at her, he swallowed.

"The prophecy, the one about Draco. I didn't reveal it all."

Hermione's eyes rounded, but she said nothing.

"It goes after the line about the one who went before sacrificing all...

_And fall they will, for this man, this serpent of green, shall rule,_

_unless one who has gone before, sacrifices all to defeat him._

_And if this new power rising is defeated, WITH STUDENT JOINING MASTER IN DEATH,_

_Only then will the world rejoice in peace and prosperity._

"Hermione, this time, it's not an either/or thing. This time, it's not 'neither shall live while the other survives'. This time, it's clearly stated that we both must die. And I've got to make sure it's done right, or our children will go through _exactly_ what we went through."

"Who else knows?" she asked, stunned.

"Snape," Harry said.

"Snape?"

"He speaks parseltongue. I couldn't keep it from him."

"Ginny?"

"God, no!" Harry said, a catch in his voice. "I... I don't want..."

"Harry..."

"Hermione, if I have to give my life to this, fine... but I can't... I can't stand the thought of my remaining time with Ginny... and everyone else... to be colored by this. I couldn't take it, Hermione!"

She nodded, "Of course, Harry. But you shouldn't have to carry this burden alone!"

"I'm not," he smiled sadly. "I've told you, now."

Hermione smiled, her eyes tearing up. "Harry..."

"Hermione, if I seem... moody... it's just because..."

"I _know_ why you're distant, Harry!" she said shortly. "But understand that you don't _need_ to be!"

"I'm trying, Mione. I really am."

* * *

Harry reentered their bedroom ten minutes later with a cup of tea for his wife. He found her awake, staring at the wall.

"Gin?"

"Good morning, love," she said, her voice tired.

Harry sat down on the bed next to her, placing the tea on her bedside table.

"Ginny, are you okay?" He asked quietly. She hadn't been herself in days.

"I'm fine, Harry, really."

"I know I haven't been around much lately..." _Damn this war, damn everything that keeps me away from those that I want to spend my remaining time with..._

"Oh, Harry, it's not that!" she cried out.

"Then what is it, Gin? You're... you're sad all the time, and..."

"Harry?"

He looked into her Ginny-brown eyes and saw... _something_... there.

"What, love?"

"I'm pregnant."

Harry's world turned upside down and right side up again. Ginny was... Well, yes. Now it certainly made sense.

"Really?" he asked, the beginning of a smile on his face.

"Really," she nodded. "I mean, I haven't been to see anyone yet, but... I've been through this four times. I kind of know the signs."

"Are you..." Harry couldn't help but notice that she didn't seem very happy about it. "Are you not pleased?"

"I..." Ginny's eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Harry! I do want another baby, but..."

"But what, love?"

"I can't stand the thought of putting even more pressure on you! Especially right now!"

"Pressure?" Harry laughed, pulling her up and into his arms. "This isn't pressure, Gin. Dear Merlin, is that what you thought? This is the reward! I get to... another baby...with you? I couldn't be happier!"

She hiccoughed into his chest.

"Ginny," he said gently. "My only concern about this is you. So long as you're okay with it, I'm thrilled!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed, unable to hold back the grin. "So, when can we tell people?"

* * *

_To my reviewers – You're all great, you know that? I got more reviews on the last chapter than I think I have for ANY chapter written, even in Power of Truth! _

_**Shotgunn: **You're just determined to make SOMEONE into a spy, aren't you? Well, we'll see where it goes..._

_**Merlindamage**: Understatement, my friend! I would imagine that over the years, Malfoy has been called many, many names, and not all in the HP world! I think my personal favorite is "Mal-ferret"... it's just got a lovely ring to it, doesn't it?_

_**James Milamber:** Sorry to hear you're not feeling well! Must have really messed up your vacation – yuck! As to Harry's "parental" tendancies, I just KNEW he'd get all protective of "his" girls the minute he saw any of them in physical contact with a young male! _

_**Kaylee Smith:** As to Draco dying hard, well, we'll see where the story takes us, shall we? Harry is in for a surprise or two yet._

_**Larna Mandrea:** To me, the anniversary is VERY important to canon. The very fact that it is on Halloween is a detail that JKR pays little OBVIOUS attention to, except in passing, and that intrigues me._

_**Saerry Snape:** Yes – evil little ferret.... we'll see when Harry catches up with him..._

_**DkandMax:** I'm not sure that Marietta will play that large a role... basically I think Harry's character needed to show some maturity to balance off the situation with the girls and their dates. Julie may, however, play a role.... you never know. And the issue may well crop up again before the end of the story... my muse still plays mind games with me! As to Malfoy knowing about the twins – who knows (evil grin)?_

_**Whimsical Firefly: ** I stand corrected and I humbly apologise! I was writing that part of that chapter at about three in the morning... forgive me! _

_**Lalaluu: ** I think Harry needed to see that "his" girls were growing up – it was essential that he relate their ages back to when he and Ginny were in school, so that he can be better prepared for... well. As to the other... we'll see where that goes, shall we?_

_**Serpentia:** Harry doesn't want to be a hero. Being a hero might just get him killed, and for the first time in a long time, he's got something he wants to live for. That kind of pressure must be extremely difficult to deal with._

_**Elise**: Glad you're enjoying it. I'm having a hoot writing it!_

_CQ_


	8. Chapter Eight: Revisiting the Past

Chapter Eight: Revisiting the Past

"Harry?"

Harry looked up from his desk to see Hermione hesitating in the doorway.

"What is it, Mione?"

"Stephen Lewis sent a packet of mail..."

"Yes?" A lot of letters had been sent directly to the paper office in past months. Stephen Lewis generally had a packet of mail delivered once or twice a week.

"This was in it. It's addressed personal, to you," she held out an envelope.

"Hmm..." he took it. "It's probably just another application."

"Probably, but I didn't want to open it."

"Scared?" he laughed, remembering the letter from Mahood which had been charmed to do something nasty if anyone but Harry opened it.

"No," she denied. "But it might really be personal."

"Mione, what about my life do you _not_ know?"

Her eyes danced. "Oh, I'm sure that there is something."

"I'm an open book," he said.

Hermione laughed. "Open book? Sure, Harry."

Harry slit open the envelope and removed the sheets of paper, unfolding them to reveal an unfamiliar script.

As he read, his face went white.

_Dear Harry,_

_I am hoping that, should what I be reading in the news these days be what I think it is, that this letter will reach you through the tabloid offices._

_I cannot tell you how happy I was to hear, after all these years, that you are alive and well. I know, and understand, the reasons you distanced yourself from us, and I can only hope that this letter, and my taking the opportunity to contact you, does not offend._

_First, I do hope that you will take the word of a grown man and accept my apologies for my past behavior towards you. I know that nothing I ever did could in any way be considered acceptable, and I ask your forgiveness._

_I also feel it my duty to inform you of the passing of my mother. My father passed some fifteen years ago, but my mother passed only three months ago, quietly, in her sleep._

_In sorting through her belongings, I have come across some things that I feel you should have. Apparently, they were things of your mother's and should have been given to you years ago. I can only apologise for the delay. You should have had these things as a child, or at the very least, they should have been given to you when you left our home._

_If you would like them, please respond to the address below, or telephone me. I understand if you are hesitant to make contact, and I apologize if I have brought up memories best left forgotten, but I would very much like the opportunity to meet you again._

_I await your reply,_

_Malcolm_

"Harry? Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked, stepping towards him.

"It's from Malcolm," he said quietly.

"Malcolm?"

"My cousin."

"What does _he_ want?" Ginny's voice came from the doorway. She had a stack of clean linens in her hands, and must have been passing the doorway and overheard.

"He wants to see me," Harry said, still looking down at the letter clutched in his hands. Ginny came forward, laying the laundry on the desk and taking the letter from him, scanning it quickly.

"What on earth for?" Hermione asked. She remembered vividly the state in which Harry had returned to them each year after his annual stay with his aunt and her family.

"Apparently, my aunt has passed away, and some things were found in her personal effects that belonged to my mother. Malcolm would like to return them to me."

"Tell him to have them delivered," Hermione said dismissively. "That family!"

"No, Hermione," Ginny said, looking up from the letter. "It sounds as though he wants to establish a relationship with you, Harry."

Harry looked down into his wife's eyes. How did one respond to such a letter? It had been twenty years since he laid eyes on Malcolm, twenty years since he had even set foot in the village he had grown up in, and he'd thought it was over.

And now, with a single letter, he found himself almost curious as to what kind of man his cousin had become. Perhaps, too, a bit of it was a need to show _someone_ from that family that he wasn't, and never had been, the failure that he had been cast as.

"Harry?" Ginny looked up at him with concern. "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know what I want, Ginny," he said quietly. "But I know what I have to do."

* * *

The village was much as he remembered it. Apparating to an alleyway behind the small village store, he breathed deeply. What on earth was he doing?

He stepped out from the side of the shop and looked up and down the street. As he remembered, it curved to the east, and was lined with cars. The houses on either side had small front gardens, not leaving any room for parking. His aunt and uncle had owned a house off of this street, on another street with rather larger lots.

Turning left, he followed the street towards the village school. He'd spent the first eleven years of his life here, before finding out anything about his true background. The village school had been a difficult environment for him, both because he'd been ostracized by the other children and because the strange things that happened to him, which happened to most children of magical background, had marked him as odd, rather than special. A freak.

As he walked, he passed two women walking the other way. He noticed them watching him, and nodded politely.

"I swear I know that man from somewhere..." he heard one say quietly as he passed.

He smiled. He may well have gone to school with them. Who knew?

Turning left again, he glanced up at the street sign and saw it was the one he was looking for. It had been years since he'd been here. Strangely, he felt little reaction. Had he been asked, he would have thought he'd feel uncomfortable walking down this street towards the home that had never been a home to him.

But he felt... nothing. Mildly interested, but nothing more.

He walked along to the driveway of the home he had spent some of the most difficult times of his life in. The outside had changed remarkably, but he knew it was the house. The perfectly manicured lawn and symmetrical flower beds so admired by his aunt were gone. In their place was a flower garden, with a brick pathway leading through it. It reminded Harry of Hermione's wild garden at her cottage. This would never have been considered acceptable by either his aunt or his uncle, it was far too showy, even now in the late fall.

"Hello?" He heard a woman's voice. "Can I help you?"

She stood from where she'd been hidden, obviously tending one of the beds. He had missed her at first, but now he looked at her and smiled. She was plump and brunette, pretty in a homely way, with a friendly face.

"Hello," he said. "I hope I'm not disturbing you. I was looking for Malcolm Rivers."

"Malcolm?" the woman looked at him closely. "He's inside. Was he expecting you?"

"I... doubt it. I don't think so," Harry said. "I'm sorry... I'm..."

"Harry?"

Harry turned to look at the man standing in the front doorway. He wasn't very tall, perhaps five six or seven, and was rather heavy, although not as hugely fat as Harry would have expected him to be. He looked... comfortable.

"Harry, is that really you?"

"Yes, Malcolm. How are you?"

"I'm... surprised, actually. I never expected..." the other man looked closely at him, seeing the lines around Harry's eyes, and the extremely fit body which was badly hidden by faded jeans and a dark green knit sweater. "Come in, come in... I... forgive me. I'm rather speechless. Marion? This is my cousin, Harry."

"Harry Potter?" she said quietly, with a smile. "Quite unbelievable, isn't it?"

"I suppose so," Harry said gravely. "But true."

"I... you could have knocked me over with a feather when I found out..." she swallowed. "Can we offer you a cup of tea?"

"That would be... very nice. Thank you," he agreed, following the couple inside.

"The children are away at school, of course..." Malcolm said as he led Harry inside towards the lounge. Harry's eyes darted around, to the stairs, down the hallway, past the stair cupboard...

He felt a shudder go through him, but he followed Malcolm through to the kitchen and then into the lounge.

"...we have two. A boy and a girl. David and Susan."

"Ah..." Harry smiled politely. "How old?"

"David is nine and Susan is just turned eight," Marion said pleasantly, filling the kettle and setting it to boil. Harry noticed a few things about the room. Firstly, the décor had been changed drastically. Gone were the floral prints that his aunt had favored and in their place were clean lines of Scandinavian furniture, pale carpets and bright upholstery.

The kitchen had been painted a bright yellow, the dark wooden cupboards gone, and the window in the living room had been enlarged.

"Do you have children, Harry?" Malcolm asked.

"I... yes... five," Harry stated, bringing his attention back to the man in front of him.

"Five?" Malcolm grinned. "Been busy?"

"We have... my wife, Ginny..."

"You married her, then?" Malcolm smiled. "Your friend's sister."

"You remember," Harry was surprised.

"Yes. All that lovely red hair. And her brothers, of course, quite the pranksters, those two."

Harry tried to suppress a grin at the thought of Fred and George's particular brand of revenge. Malcolm laughed outright.

"Come now, Harry, it was funny. Don't deny it."

"I'm not, I'm..."

"Far too polite if even half of what Malcolm tells me is true," Marion placed the tea things on a tray and looked sadly at him.

Harry took a deep breath.

"So, you married your childhood sweetheart and have five children?"

"Well... yes. We've only been married a short while," Harry admitted. "Took me a while to figure it out, actually. And Ginny was married to a friend of mine right out of school. He's passed away... seven years ago now. Ginny and I have since married. She had three daughters, mine now. And together we have twins."

"Twins?" Marion looked interested.

"Yes... and... we've just found out we're expecting again."

Malcolm whistled, "Six children."

"Yes," Harry rather gratefully accepted a cup of tea from Marion, sitting down awkwardly as Malcolm indicated a chair, and sat down himself.

There was a rather awkward moment of silence, then Harry cleared his throat.

"I wanted to thank you, for letting me know about... your mother. I'm... sorry."

"Harry," Malcolm looked directly at him. "I think we both know that... there was little to be sorry about. Her passing..."

"She was a difficult woman," Marion said. "Perhaps it's best to just leave it at that, love."

"Yes," Malcolm nodded. "But I am sorry, Harry. For everything."

"We were children, Malcolm. Children... don't understand differences."

"But they shouldn't be encouraged to cause pain," Malcolm said quietly. "And I apologize for my part in... any pain you felt. I know it had to be rather difficult."

"Yes, but in a way, I'm very glad it happened the way it did," Harry sipped his tea.

"What?" Malcolm looked shocked.

"It gave me strength, strength I needed to do what I had to do," Harry said simply. "I don't know if I could have..."

"You mean..." Marion looked at him, shocked. "You mean, the books are _true_?"

Harry glanced between her and his cousin, wondering how to continue. How much had Malcolm told her?

"It's alright, Harry," Malcolm said. "I told her everything, but I'm not so sure she believed me."

"I... I thought it was just stories..." she said.

"No," Harry said. "They're... based on fact. A lot of fact."

"So you...?"

"Yes," he answered before she finished her question. "Look, I don't want to endanger you. You need to be aware that, well, things are happening again. Please, if you see anything... odd... you need to get in touch."

"Odd?" Malcolm said. "Odd, how?"

"Malcolm, it's common knowledge that I haven't seen or spoken to you for over twenty years. It's very unlikely that anyone would approach you, but you need to be very aware that these dangers exist. If you see anything out of the ordinary, as in strangely dressed people, people you don't recognize... just be aware, okay?"

"Of course, Harry," Malcolm nodded.

"So, you're really... a wizard?" Marion swallowed. "Magic really _does_ exist?"

"Of course," Harry smiled.

"And you're... some sort of official?"

"I'm the Minister of Magic," Harry confirmed, reaching into his pocket and extracting a business card to hand to the other man. "Kind of like the Muggle Prime Minister. If you need to get in touch with me..."

"Oh," she looked at him, her eyes round.

"Now, see, that I didn't know," Malcolm said, taking the card. "I knew you'd make something of yourself, Harry, despite it all. If you managed to survive."

"Well, as you can see..." Harry said, standing. "However, I really need to get back... I apologize for not warning you I was going to show up... I didn't know, after your letter..."

Malcolm stood, looking at his cousin. "I'm glad it got to you. I hope... I hope this won't be the last time we see each other, Harry. I hope..."

Harry looked at the heavier man. "I think I'd like to drop by again to talk... about... well."

"I'd like that, too," Malcolm said, holding out his hand to shake. Harry took it firmly.

"Well, what about that trunk, then, love?" Marion asked.

"Yes, of course..." Malcolm turned, indicating an elderly trunk sitting in the corner of the lounge. "There are the things I wrote about, Harry... I believe... well, some of it looked rather interesting. I didn't touch much, didn't know if any of it was... special, you know. But it all appears to have been your mothers, some of it might have been your Dad's... I don't really know what some of it is. Do you need a hand...?"

"No... I'll be fine. Now, I'm going to do something rather... well, it could be rather startling, and I don't want to frighten you," Harry glanced at Marion, then back to Malcolm.

"You're going to pull that disappearing thing?" Malcolm looked almost eager.

"If you don't mind," Harry said. "I'd really rather not carry this back to where I apparated to."

Malcolm took Marion's hand. "Quite alright, Harry. We'll just watch, shall we?"

"Malcolm, it was good to see you again. Really." Harry looked at his cousin. He really had changed rather a lot. Harry wouldn't have recognized him.

Malcolm took a deep breath. "Don't be a stranger, Harry."

Harry placed a hand on the trunk, and apparated directly from their living room to the den at Potter Manor. When he looked around and saw he was alone, he sat down heavily on the trunk, his head in his hands and breathed deeply. That had been difficult, and perhaps he should have left well enough alone.

But he was strangely glad that he hadn't.

* * *

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Mwahhahahha! I have you now..._

_**Shotgunn:** Yeah, yeah... you're psychic, my dear. You're also the EIGHTH reviewer on this chapter! And that little thing? Well, have you ever known me let the cat out of the bag early? Or was it ever the cat you were expecting? There are plenty of surprises waiting, trust me._

_**Dkandmax:** Romanticize Malfoy...eeewwww! The guy gives me the heeby-jeebies. I guess there are some women out there who fall for that "you can change him" myth... I, however, am not one of them. Once a greaseball, always a greaseball. As far as I'm concerned, the conflict between Malfoy and Harry in canon, and to a lesser degree the conflict between Harry and Snape, epitomizes the books. They're ABOUT the struggle between good and evil, and Harry, as our classic self-sacraficing hero, is "good". If you make Malfoy "part good" then you have to make Harry "part bad". I don't think that that will exactly happen in canon, but I'm trying to show here that he's human, at least. _

_**Kaylee Smith:** "Harry can't die"? Well, we'll see, shall we?_

_**Joe:** It's all about the interpretation... as JKR once said about the "canon" prophecy... Miss Trelawney was very careful about the wording... as was Snape, in this case._

_**Merlindamage:** Read on, dear reader... read on. All shall become clear..._

_**Gigifanfic:** Glad to see you back, I missed you! The story is playing out in rather an interesting way... even for me. In all honesty, my muse tends to take over and lead me places I never imagined going... it's really been quite an interesting month!_

_**James Milamber:** Do you think that Milamber would forgive me if I baked him cookies? I'm sorry about the delay, but hopefully these two updates in two days will calm him down, and I make a mean ginger snap!_

_CQ_


	9. Chapter Nine: Bloodlines

Chapter Nine: Bloodlines

"Harry? Tonks is here," Ron said as he entered Harry's den early one December afternoon.

"Good..." Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I need a minute, Ron."

"She's with Ginny and Mione in the kitchen. What's wrong?" Ron asked, seeing the pensive look on Harry's face.

"Don't you find it strange, Ron, that the ferret hasn't contacted us to gloat?" Harry asked after a moment. He was standing near the windows, looking out at the light snow that was falling. "I mean, Malfoy _always_ has to gloat. There have been nearly thirty halfbloods and muggle-borns killed or injured in the past three months... and not a word."

"I don't know, Harry. He obviously knows that you know he's happy about the... outcomes. Maybe that's enough for him. Maybe that's why we haven't heard anything from him."

Harry shook his head, turning away from the window and looking at Ron. His green eyes were shadowed with doubt. "Something feels funny... like he's... something's not right."

"Your scar?" Ron enquired, watching him closely.

"No... nothing like that," Harry said. "Just... an odd feeling."

"Odd, how?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry admitted. "It's... like I'm missing something."

Ron looked at him curiously.

"Never mind," Harry shook his head, "I'm just being... well, whatever. Tell Tonks to come on in whenever she's ready."

"Do you want me to sit in?" Ron asked.

"If you like," Harry looked up, and seeing the strangely self-conscious look on his best friend's face, grinned. "Unless you've got something... more interesting... to do?"

"I... well, no..." Ron flushed.

"You know that you're welcome to sit in on the meeting, Ron," Harry said, a little more seriously. "But I don't _need_ you to be there."

"Well, perhaps I'll skip it then. Hermione's asked me to... well... help her with something."

"Abandoned for a pretty face," Harry sighed dramatically. "How will I survive?"

"I'm sure you'll manage," Ron said dryly, not appreciating Harry's teasing. "You're sure you don't need me?"

"Apparently not like Hermione does," Harry grinned. "Go, I'll bring you up to speed later."

Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door as Tonks stuck her head around it. She had pale blonde hair today, and blue eyes. Harry suspected, after all the years of knowing her, that this was her 'natural' look. She certainly carried the family resemblance with it.

"Harry?"

"Tonks, come on in," Harry stood.

"What's up?"

"A couple of things I need to discuss with you."

"Oh?" Tonks closed the door behind her and then hesitated as Harry cast silencing and privacy charms. She looked at him, concerned. "Harry?"

"Relax, Nymph," Harry smiled. "I just want to keep this private."

"From Ginny and Ron?" Harry didn't keep much from Ginny and Ron, and Tonks knew that full well. She looked doubtfully at him as she sat down carefully. She still had some residual pain from the injuries she had suffered during the fight with Mahood. She had been forced to withdraw from the auror ranks, and was now trying to adjust to early retirement. For someone with Tonks' level of energy, it wasn't easy.

"From everyone, Nymph." Harry replied, sitting across from her in his leather armchair.

"So? What is it?" she asked quietly.

"I need to ask you some questions, but I will understand and be perfectly okay with it if you choose not to answer."

"Okay..."

"It's about your family, Tonks."

"Ah," she nodded. Tonks' relationship with the Malfoy and LeStrange families had always been an issue for her. Her own mother, sister to the women of those families, had married without ambition, and worse, married a muggle. Neither points had gone over too well with the other two.

"Lucinda Maddox." Harry stated, watching for her reaction. Strangely, there wasn't much of one, other than a slight raising of her eyebrows. Surprise?

"What about her?"

"Are you close?"

"No. I haven't spoken to her since we were children. My mother didn't have much to do with her family after... well, after the first rising. You knew that, Harry."

"I knew she didn't have much to do with Narcissa and Bellatrix, but..."

"She didn't have much to do with any of them," Tonks said.

"But she is your cousin? And Draco's?"

"Yes."

"Was she...?"

"Her father was a fence-sitter, Harry. He worked both sides in whatever way it benefitted him, financially," Tonks said quietly. "He wasn't exactly... well, he would never have taken the dark mark, he wasn't that... dedicated, but he certainly didn't have a moral problem with what Voldemort was doing, so long as he had an opportunity to gain from it."

"And Lucinda?"

"I have no idea. Like I said, I haven't seen her or spoken to her since I was about six."

Harry nodded.

"I appreciate your telling me what you know, Nymph. I know it must be hard..."

"Harry, they may be blood, but they're no friends of mine. I hope you know that."

"Of course. I was... unsure about Lucinda and her family... I need to know what side they're on, and I had hoped that you could shed some light on it for me."

"I have no idea," Tonks admitted. "Shack told me what was going on, with Kilborn... to tell you the truth, I had no idea she was married at all, much less to a Ministry official. I... you know that I don't talk to any of them."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "How are you doing, otherwise?"

"Well," she smiled. "Really well. I have some bad days, and I'll never be an auror again..."

Harry watched as the light left her eyes and she took a deep breath.

"What are you doing to keep busy?" he asked.

"Well, I've been doing my therapy... my range of motion is much better than it was. I'm concentrating on that right now, until something else comes along."

"How would you feel about... a project?"

"A project?" her eyes lit. "What kind of 'project'?"

"I have..." Harry sighed. "I have need of some information, Nymph... and I need someone I trust to pull it together for me."

"Oh?" Interest lit her eyes further.

"I think you might be perfect for it..." he said. "I want you to do a little geneaology project for me. I want you to develop a sudden interest in your family, and I want you to research it."

"Why?"

"Because, you're connected to one of the oldest pureblood families in our world, Nymph, and given your current situation, no one would suspect you in your sudden interest in family ties. Your brush with... mortality could easily explain your sudden need to know your heritage."

"Harry?" Tonks sat forward, her eyes intense as she stared into his. "Don't pretend... don't mince your words with me. I am fully aware of how close I came to death, please don't sugar-coat it when you're around me, okay? We've been friends for too long for you to feel uncomfortable saying it like it is."

"Fair enough," he looked at her, admiring her forthrightedness. "The attacks are on half-bloods and muggleborns, Nymph. I want to know the background of every known witch and wizard in our world. I think, if we know that, we might be better able to protect the prospective targets.

"But," he sighed. "As Minister of Magic, I know full well how my asking for a census of every family in the wizarding world and their bloodlines would go over. I can't do that... they'd think I was... concerned about such things, for the wrong reasons. Not to mention, don't particularly want to tip of Malfoy. So, that's where you come in. We need the information, but it can't be an offical project. With your family background, you'll be able to access a lot of things others might not be able to, in an unofficial capacity."

Tonks nodded, her eyes glittering.

"Will you do it?"

"Absolutely," she nodded. "And thank you for thinking of me, Harry."

* * *

"Ron?" Hermione laid on her bed, playing with the sparse hair on Ron's chest.

"What, love?" He shifted so her head was more comfortably nestled against his shoulder, and sighed with satisfaction. The times they laid together like this Ron could almost forget what was going on in the world around them.

"Do you ever think about dying?"

"What?" He started, looking down at her awkwardly.

"Do you ever think about dying?" She turned soft brown eyes up to look at him.

"Where in bloody hell did that come from?"

"Well, we all die eventually. Do you ever wonder..."

"No!" He said. "Why would I think..."

"Because it's there, Ron. We lead very dangerous lives. The likelihood is, if this continues, one of us will be killed..."

"Mione!" Ron turned, pulling her against him. "Do _not_ think about that, okay?"

"Ron, Harry might die this time," she said gently, her brown eyes filled with tears.

Ron was silent.

"What would we do without him?"

"Go on," Ron said quietly. "Support my sister, love each other, and go on."

"I do love you, Ron," she sighed, nestling in closer to him.

"I know you do. I love you, too. But please, stop talking about death, okay?"

"Are you superstitious?" she asked, a smile in her voice.

"No," Ron said. "I'm not. But there is no sense taking the chance that I'm wrong, is there?"

Hermione grinned against his chest, "No, love. There isn't."

* * *

"Harry?"

"Come in, Ron," Harry didn't bother looking up from the papers scattered over his desk.

"Can I talk to you?"

"Of course," Harry finally looked up, seeing his friend standing nervously in the doorway. "Ron? What is it?"

"If someone..." Ron glanced over his shoulder, then came further into the room, shutting the door behind him, and continuing in a quieter voice. "If someone were to want to get married... say... soon... What would they have to do?"

"Get a licence, find an official to perform the marriage, say your vows..." Harry paused and looked at Ron through half-closed eyes. "How soon?"

"Like... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Harry barked, shocked.

"Keep it down!" Ron glanced over his shoulder at the door.

"Ron, if one were say... hypothetically suggesting that they were considering holding a wedding, say, _here_... hypothetically, of course..." Harry looked sternly at the man standing across from him. "One would first want to make sure that one's _fiancee_ was aware of their plans... and almost more importantly, _their mother_, who, I assure you, will lose her string if she isn't allowed to prepare _something_..."

"No, Harry... I..." Ron swallowed. "What is involved in getting a licence?"

Harry stared at his friend for a moment, then took a cleansing breath and opened a drawer of his desk. Pulling out a file folder, he opened it, took out a form and looked it over. Taking up a pen, he filled in a few places, and then, signing it with a flourish, handed it over to the red-haired man standing in front of him.

"That," Harry said. "Is your licence."

"You can issue these?"

"I'm assuming so, Ron, seeing as Ramona included it in the file of standard forms I needed to be familiar with. Consider yourself lucky, normally it takes three weeks to be approved. I would suggest... strongly... that you discuss this with Hermione _immediately_. While women seem to be thrilled to be surprised with a proposal, I assure you, my knowledge of Hermione tells me that she would _not_ be thrilled with a surprise wedding. Women are funny about things like that, Ron."

"That's it? That's a marriage licence?" Ron looked down at the single sheet of paper in his hands with surprise clearly showing on his face.

"What did you expect? Something with chains and manacles?" Harry said, leaning back in his chair.

Ron flushed, "Thanks, Harry."

"Ron? I would suggest you go and talk to Hermione. Right now."

Ron grinned and opened the door to the hallway, heading out and nearly colliding with Snape, whose fury was showing clearly on his face, his black robes billowing out behind him as he strode angrily into Harry's study.

"What the _hell_ is this I hear about you tracing the lineage of every witch and wizard in England? Are you _insane_, Potter?"

* * *

_**GiGiFanfic:** As I said before, I'm glad you're back. I was worried I'd lost you after reading your comments over at James' fic... I realize this story is very different than Power of Truth... but it had to be!_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Ah, yes... the power of evil... And hey, don't dismiss ANY possibilities until you see the word "finis"!_

_**Elise:** If you've read the prequel, you know that anything is possible..._

_**Larna Mandrea:** "Boy-who-was-a-loser"? HEY! GET HER!!!!!_

_**Merlindamage:** Don't I always?_

_**Shotgunn:** And how is my little conspiracy theorist today? LOL – you did it, baby – you were the number one reviewer on the last chapter. As to Fred and George – I said they weren't QUITE the pranksters... I said NOTHING about them following the straight and narrow ALL the time (grin). And who said Malcolm was referring to ton-tongue-toffees? All will be revealed in time. I promise._

_CQ_


	10. Chapter Ten: Bloodlines 2

Chapter Ten: Bloodlines 2

"Sev," Harry smiled, nodding to Ron that it was okay for him to leave. Ron cast a cool glance at the potions master and then quietly closed the door behind him as he left the room. "How nice of you to drop by."

"Ar e you insane, Potter? What on earth were you thinking..."

"Sev," Harry said, sitting down in the chair behind his desk. "I assure you, I have a very good reason for wanting that information. And no, I'm not insane. At least, I don't think so. Others, of course, may have a different opinion."

"Then just _what_," Severus said through gritted teeth, ignoring Harry's flip comment. "Were you thinking?"

Harry looked at him for a moment, then sighed. "Explain to me how you found out."

"Explain...?" If anything, Snape looked even more angry. "The last time I checked, Potter, the Order didn't keep secrets like this from each other!"

Harry snorted with laughter. "The Order not keep secrets from each other? Are you for real? May I remind you, Sev, that you and Dumbledore had secret-keeping down to a bloody _art form_?"

"That is besides the point..." the older man blustered.

"No, Severus, that is _very much_ the point. Tell me, why did Albus keep things from me in the early years?"

"Because," Snape took a breath, speaking in a much calmer tone as he sat down in the leather armchair across from Harry's desk. "At times, it was necessary."

"Yes," Harry looked straight into the older man's eyes. "Sometimes it was necessary."

Snape was the first to look away.

"Now, I repeat, Sev, please explain to me how you found out."

"Nymphadora was doing some research at the school..."

"Ah. Nymph. I should have known." Harry picked up his cel phone and quickly dialled.

"Harry..."

Harry held up a hand to quiet the professor. After one ring, the phone at the other end was picked up.

"Tonks."

"Nymph, it's Harry."

"Oh, Harry..."

"Nymph... I need you to come to the house... now."

"Harry, I'm just in the middle..."

"Nymph, I don't care if you're up to your dainty little fingers in death eaters..." Harry said firmly, not allowing his anger to show, but obviously not about to accept a refusal. "I want you here. Now."

"Okay, Harry," she sounded rather frightened. "I'll be right there."

Harry hung up the phone, looking hard at the potions professor. "Now, what was said?"

"Harry..." Snape swallowed. "Nymphadora was merely asking me about my knowledge of the heritage of several of the more... prominent families related to her line. She gave nothing away, but her sudden interest and my knowledge of the situation from my position in the Order..."

"Sev," Harry gave the other man a steely look. "What was said, and in front of whom?"

* * *

Nymphadora Tonks arrived in the kitchen of Potter Manor by way of the floo, her arms full of papers and files. As she skidded to a halt six feet from the fireplace, papers flew everywhere.

"Tonks?" Ginny said, startled at the sudden appearance of the other witch. "What on earth...?"

Nymphadora looked up at her, and Ginny was shocked by the tears in her eyes.

"Tonks, what is it, love?" Molly rushed forward, taking the remaining papers from the blonde woman's arms as Ginny bent to pick up the papers that had flown as she made her rather ungainly entry.

"Oh," Tonks sniffed, her eyes watering more, until the tears fell. "I think I've messed up, and I _know_ that Harry is angry with me..."

"Nymph, what on earth happened?" Ginny guided her to a chair, as Molly straightened the pile of papers and laid them on the table before heading for the tea pot.

"Harry just called me, told me to get here, and sounded really, _really_ upset.... and there's this project I've been working on for him, and I think I might have said something to someone..."

"Tonks, relax," Ginny said, shifting to the side so that her mother could place a steaming cup of tea in front of her. "Harry isn't angry, I'm sure... we'll sort this out."

"But I said something at the school... in the library, and now..." she raised distraught eyes to Ginny, her voice lowering to barely a whisper. "And I'm not sure, but I think someone might have overheard, because Harry sounded _so_ angry..."

"I'm not angry, Nymph," Harry said from the doorway. "I'm a little disappointed, but I'm not angry. No real damage has been done, but... you have to be more careful."

"Oh, Harry!" Tonks burst into tears. "I'm sorry! I didn't think, and..."

"I know. But I think we can do some damage control and dismiss it as a personal project you've been working on, just as we discussed."

"But..."

"Severus is going to take care of the situation at the school, Nymph, but I need to talk to you about what you found. Is that your research?" Harry indicated the pile of papers.

"I was in the school records section when you called..." Nymph glanced at the pile of papers and files. "I... I just grabbed everything and left. Minerva let me use her floo... and I really hate flooing, Harry..."

"I know," Harry smiled. "Now, can we take that lot into the den and review it? Can you tell me what you've learned?"

Tonks turned sad blue eyes up at the younger wizard. "I'm so very sorry, Harry."

"Enough, Nymph. It's over. Now, come on," Harry picked up her papers, and her tea, gesturing towards the hall door. "I need to know what you've found."

As Tonks preceded him out the door, Harry paused and looked back that the two women. "Molly, could you bring in a pot of tea? I have a feeling we're going to need it."

"Of course, love,"

"And Ginny?" Harry turned to her, her brown eyes concerned. "We'll talk after... but can you find Ron for me? I really need him in on this."

"Sure, Harry," Ginny stood, heading out of the room as well. "And Harry?"

"Hmmm?"

"Go easy on her, love, okay? She's had a really rough time of it."

"We all have, Gin. But security is so very important..."

"I know, but..." Ginny glanced down, then back up to him. Lowering her voice, she glanced at the study door, which was closed with Tonks safely on the other side of it. "She and Kingsley... well... it didn't really work out the way she was hoping it would, and... she's a bit emotional right now."

Harry didn't hide his surprise well, but nodded and smiled. "Relax, Gin. I'm not exactly the ogre I'm made out to be, you know?"

"No, I know," Ginny grinned as she headed up the stairs in search of her brother. "But you can be a bit blind sometimes, love."

Harry, shaking his head, turned and carried papers and Tonks' tea into his study.

* * *

"So, I wanted...." Ron swallowed uncomfortably. Standing so close to Hermione always made his mind wander to things not conducive to rational thought.

"Ron?" Hermione looked at him. "What?"

"I... Hermione... you know I want to spend the rest of my life with you..."

"And I with you, Ron."

"But... I know that you were raised in a muggle home, and perhaps you aren't familiar with the... well, the reality of what..."

"Ron, what on earth are you on about?"

"Hermione, if you marry me, it's for life." Ron stated bluntly.

"Of course it is, Ron. I wouldn't marry you otherwise."

"I mean..." Ron took a deep breath. "The reality of a wizarding marriage is... a binding of souls. We would never be able to part... there would be no separation, or divorce. Such things aren't... possible, afterwards."

"Ron?" Hermione looked at him, curiously.

"A wizarding marriage... well, you remember when Dad said those words over Harry and Ginny, and there was that bright white light?"

"Of course, Ron... I know..."

"Well, that was a spell, that bound their souls for life. The only way to break that bond is death."

Hermione was silent. She knew this, but apparently Ron didn't _know_ she knew this.

"I've asked you to marry me, and I want that with you. But I want you to know exactly what it means. I want you to accept my proposal as a witch, not as a muggle."

"I'm not..."

"I _know_ you're not a muggle, Mione... but I want you to _think_ and _feel_ like a witch... and understand what I'm asking you," Ron swallowed again, his cheeks going red. "Hermione, the night the twins were born, I asked you to marry me. You accepted, but I need to know that you accepted _as a witch_, knowing what marriage means in the wizarding world. I'm not just asking you to be my wife... I'm asking you to bind your soul to mine until we die."

Hermione smiled, tears in her eyes. "I've already done that, my love."

Ron looked at her, not really comprehending.

"Ron, I am fully aware of what my acceptance of your proposal means. I never thought of it in terms of something I'd like to try on for size. So far as I'm concerned, death be damned, you're stuck with me for eternity."

Ron smiled, the redness leaving his ears as he took in what she was saying.

"So, you'll marry me?"

"Of course! I've already said I would."

"No, I mean... you'll marry me... now?"

"Now?"

"Well," Ron pulled out the paper that Harry had given him earlier. "Soon? I talked to Harry, and he gave me the licence... apparently it's good for six weeks, but with Christmas next week, I thought, everyone will be here..."

"I'd marry you this minute, Ronald Weasley," she laughed, happy tears running down her cheeks. "But I think Molly would pitch a fit if we didn't give her _some_ warning, so, yes. Christmas will be fine."

At that moment, there was a soft knock on the door.

"Damn!" Ron muttered, pulling away from his soon-to-be wife. "Who the hell is it?"

"Ron?" Ginny's voice came through the door. "I'm sorry to interrupt..."

Hermione thought she could hear a small giggle from Ron's sister.

"Then why are you?" Ron demanded, striding across to the door and throwing it open.

Ginny, looking surprised at his rather red and angry expression, backed away a step, then glanced into the room at Hermione, standing with tears on her cheeks and looking rather flushed. What on earth had she interrupted?

"I... I'm sorry," Ginny said, turning her gaze back to her brother. "Harry needs you in the den."

"Okay... sorry, Gin... I didn't mean..." Ron looked over at Hermione. "Okay?"

"Yes. Go on. Harry needs you," Hermione said in a quiet voice.

"Later?" he enquired.

"Of course," Hermione nodded, noticing that Ginny wasn't leaving.

As Ron ran down the stairs, Ginny turned curious and concerned brown eyes on Hermione.

"What has my idiot brother done to upset you now?"

"Nothing," Hermione grinned. "Well, something, but I'm not upset."

"Then why are you crying?" Ginny leaned against the door jamb, crossing her arms across her chest and making it quite clear that she was going nowhere.

"Well," Hermione sat on the side of the bed. "I think it's customary to get... emotional... when you set a date for your wedding."

Ginny's squeal brought the other Weasley women running. Within an hour, they had the last Weasley wedding planned.

* * *

"Harry?" Ron stuck his head around the door. "Gin said you needed me?"

"Come in, Ron," Harry didn't look up from the papers spread over the long table. Tonks stood beside him.

"What's all this, then?" Ron asked, looking down at the charts and pages of neat handwriting and printouts spread before him.

"I asked Nymph to find some information for me," Harry explained. "I thought, if we know that the attacks are based on bloodlines, and concentrated on families with children of school age... we might be able to predict who would be next on Malfoy's list if we knew the backgrounds of the different families..."

"So that's what Snape was on about, then?" Ron looked with interest at the papers.

"Yes," Harry glanced up at aTonks who smiled bravely, although her eyes were watering again.

"So, what have you found, then?" Ron asked, pulling up a chair.

"Well," Tonks began, a slight quaver in her voice. "I started with those that I knew. Members of the Order, teachers at Hogwarts, businesspeople from Diagon Alley. I thought it would be easier if I began to place people on a family tree chart from the beginning, so I didn't end up researching the lineage of two people in the same family..."

"Understood, Nymph," Harry said. "Go on."

"I knew most relationships, like the Weasleys and the Prewitts, even the Black family... I kept looking, and adding people in when I found a link. From that original list, by following the lineage, I think I've made connections between most of the pureblood lineages..."

"You said you began by researching the lineage of people you knew?" Ron asked, trying to grasp the volume of research that would have meant.

"Yes..." Tonks smiled. "I started with my family, of course, expanded that to the entire Black line... then when that fizzled, I started on members of the Order during the first rising..."

"Snape and McGonagall...?"

"Yes," Tonks nodded. "Both come from purportedly 'pureblood' families, but of course, there really isn't much 'pure' blood anymore... I also researched your father, of course, Harry, and Remus and Peter Pettigrew... all three are purebloods, as the term has come to be accepted, anyhow. I looked at their school files, too.," she grinned. "Do you know how close you came to being a Slytherin family, Harry?"

"What?"

"Your father's file. The profilers suggested that he would fit in Gryffindor _or_ Slytherin. It was only when his parents insisted that he was put in Gryffindor. "

"Really?" Harry remembered that the suggestion had been made about him, as well.

"Don't panic..." Tonks grinned. "It's not that uncommon, actually. Pettigrew was suggested for Slytherin, as well. He probably _should_ have gone there, actually, but his mother wrote a very strongly worded letter to the school insisting that he be kept with your dad. Apparently, your dad was the only one Peter knew before leaving for first year, and he'd said he'd only go if he was sorted with James."

Harry snorted with disgust. Ten years later the little rat had turned on that friendship.

"And Remus was suggested for Hufflepuff..." Tonks grinned again. "Ah... I might be able to use that."

"Tonks?" Harry gestured to the papers.

"Yes... okay," she said.

"A synopsis?"

"Basically, we have two types of families. Those who are 'pureblood' by today's accounting, meaning that the muggle blood is so far back or so well hidden that no one can prove anything, and those who are blatantly 'halfblood' or less."

"Muggleborns?" Ron asked.

"Yes. Very few of those, actually."

"Yes," Harry said. "How much further do you think you have to go?"

"Oh, I'm pretty much done."

Harry and Ron looked at her with surprise.

"Done?"

"Well, ninety percent."

"And how...?"

"School records, Harry. I simply accessed them over the net, hacked in, got all the names and school records for each, then built it from there."

Harry and Ron looked at each other, then turned back to Tonks.

"You're bloody amazing, Nymph," Ron said.

"Our schools are accessible on the _net_?" Harry was shocked.

"Of course, Harry. Of course, you need to know how to find them..." she looked strangely at him for a moment. "But after that, it's not that hard. The hacking thing... well... that's not that hard, either."

"Ron?" Harry turned to his friend. "Do you think you might find Bill for me?"

"Sure, Harry," Ron nodded, then disapparated with a pop.

"So..." Tonks turned to him, pulling out a diskette. "I've made up a database of every family, and family member within it. I've included everyone, even the so-called purebloods. I figured it might come in handy."

Harry took the disk from her, looking down on it absently.

"You can query it by bloodline, which I've divided into three main categories: pureblood, halfblood or muggleborn. You can pretty much query it by anything else you can think of, as well... house affiliation, relationships to other families, how many children..."

"Thank you, Tonks," Harry nodded. "I had no idea you were so far along."

"The information was all there, Harry, it just needed to be organized into something we could use. Remember, though, that version isn't complete. I have a few more families to add. I'll bring you a copy of the final version within the next few days, if that's okay?"

"Absolutely," Harry agreed. "I really thought we'd be waiting weeks for this information."

"It was a fun project, Harry."

At that moment, two pops announced the arrival of Harry and his eldest brother.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Bill said, his eyes worried.

"Bill, we need to talk about security of information on the internet," Harry said firmly. "I would suggest you discuss this with Nymph. She, apparently, had no problem accessing school records for every witch and wizard in Britian via it. And you can bet if we found it, so can Malfoy."

* * *

_Okay, my lovely readers... I'm a bit tired today, too damned much partying last night. I'm getting too old for this... ah... sorry, naughty word. Anyhow, I went to the Annie Lennox/Sting concert last night in Calgary. Annie Lennox put on a brilliant show, and I love Sting, but the best that I can say about his half of the evening is that it was... loud. It's pretty sad when the best response they get is to the tunes that are 20 years old, and when they play their new stuff, everyone kind of... well... sits down._

_On the other hand, he's still as sexy as he ever was. Shed his jacket and the place went nuts... but Annie Lennox was utterly brilliant. For a woman of 50, she can still belt them out, and her new stuff is as good if not better than the old stuff. _

_Overall, I'm tired, and I'm on my way to take my kid to the orthodontist (I think I'm about to put HIS kid through college!) so be kind, please._

_CQ_

_**Shotgunn:** My darling Scott... I know MOST of you can think for yourself, but we're talking Harry and Ron here. Enough said? Good. As for Snape... well, more on him later._

_**LaGau: **You need to read the story I wrote before this, Harry Potter and the Power of Truth. This is the sequel to that fic, and will make MUCH more sense after you read it. Otherwise, you're spot on. This fic is about the REAL HP world... the one JKR wrote about in her own way, but **mildly** different!_

_**Elise:** Immortal Harry? Hmmm... don't think so. We'll see. Remember, this fic is about how the HP characters are in the real world... _

_**El Shabang:** What **doesn't** Snape have to hide? More on him later..._

_**Mistress Genari:** I'm glad you're enjoying it. Some have reviewed with questions about the background of this story that is easily explained in the first one... for those of you who are "getting it" anyhow – cool!_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Any review is a good review!_

_**GiGiFanfic:** I love James' story, too – but I have to check out this Bill Hagridson. And at 72, I am HONORED to have you reading my fic! _

_**Larna Mandrea:** You have to watch yourself around here making comments like that... might get you in trouble, you know? All I can say is that JKR had better have a new identity and secret hideaway ready if she plans to kill him off in the end._

_**Merlindamage:** All will be revealed, my friend. Read on._

_**Pdlegirl:** I'm glad you're enjoying it. Power of Truth was like childbirth... it just kind of happened and I came along for the ride – sometimes joyous but very, very painful at times, as well. This one is a lot easier and a lot harder in many ways. But I think of the two, this one just might end up being more satisfying to write!_

_**Gorman99:** I love writing the dialog interaction between Harry and Ron, and Bill as the straight-man, and I love writing the emotional reactions that Harry has to some things. He can be so clueless when it comes to emotions and feelings about others and how to handle them. _

_**CrazyPsychoBananaHead (AKA Kaylee Smith!):** Ron and Hermione are DESTINED!_

_**James Milamber:** You, my dear, have been missed. Don't go disappearing like that again! And I beg to disagree, but HPMM leaves my efforts in the dust. You are still king of the action scene! Get some sleep, then get on here, and review. _

_CQ_


	11. Chapter Eleven: The Future is Now

Chapter Eleven: The Future is Now

With everyone so busy, Christmas seemed to arrive before any of them were ready for it. The girls returned from school, being met off the Hogwarts Express and ushered home to Potter Manor with the minimum of fuss.

Meg, Mary and Maddy arrived, to Ginny's joy, happy and healthy, and much to Harry's chagrin, talking non stop about their respective boyfriends. Growling, Harry retreated to his study.

Dinner that first night was organized mayhem. Molly was in her element, her entire family around her, and a sense of excitement about the upcoming wedding.

Ron and Hermione had decided to marry quietly, at Potter Manor, on Christmas Eve. Ron, after grumbling about not having Harry stand for him, grudgingly asked his best friend of twenty six years if he would officiate, and at Harry's happy agreement, asked Bill to stand for him.

Conversation at dinner that first night, inevitably, turned to the attacks, and the advent of a new Dark Lord.

"Dark Lord, my..." Fred began before being kicked under the table by Alicia.

"Malfoy may not hit any of us as Dark Lord material..." Bill began.

"Stupid git..." grumbled George.

"...but the fact remains that he feels up to the challenge, and others seem to be following his lead."

Silence reigned for a moment.

"We need to think of the future," Hermione said quietly, glancing at Harry then back down at her plate, rather nervously. "We need to have hope for the future, and faith in our ability to stop this from happening again. And we're not going to do that by being reactive."

"Mione..."

"In the muggle world, the American's have an agency... it's called the CIA..."

"I've read of them," Maddy grinned.

"Where," Ginny turned to her youngest daughter. "Would you have read about something like that?"

"In a novel. One of the muggleborns was reading it in the common room, and I borrowed it."

"Your grades are not good enough to be spending time reading novels in the common room, young lady!" Ginny said firmly.

Harry grinned, then hid it quickly. Ginny sounded so like Molly, but it was more than his life was worth to mention it. He met his wife's suspicious glare with an innocent smile.

"Well," Hermione continued. "The CIA is like a... well, they're spies, but they keep an eye on situations around the world, allowing the US to have a warning when situations are hotting up, so they can be prepared."

"And what do they do about those situations?" Amelia asked.

"Well, I'm not really sure. It's all very secret," Hermione said. "They're purported to be an intelligence network only, but it's common knowledge that they're quite often more involved than that."

Harry sighed, "I highly doubt that the Winzangamut would ever approve the formation of a spy network, Hermione."

"But..."

"Harry's been trying for years to get a 'Dark Lord Early Detection' group going," Ginny explained quietly. "It's always been shot down. Infringement of people's right to privacy."

Hermione nodded, meeting Harry's eyes, then glancing pointedly at Tonks and back to Harry. Her point on the issue of privacy was clear, if unstated.

Harry was sitting in his study later, thinking about what Hermione had said. It had long been his wish to set up something, some system to give them information that could be monitored, allowing them to be more prepared for uprisings. However, Ginny was correct when she said that every single time it had been put to them, the Winzangamut had shot it down. Harry strongly suspected it was because there were more than one Dark Wizard _on_ the Winzangamut.

And lately, he'd been far too busy putting out fires...

Well, no. Not quite true, he admitted. It hadn't been because of how busy things had been, it had been because he was beginning to doubt the efficacy of any such group anyhow. This world of theirs, this magical world, would always prove to be a struggle between good and evil. Why bother even _trying_ to do more than just stay alive? There was always another, anyhow, and Harry had no idea of how to stop that particular cycle.

Now Malfoy, Malfoy he could stop. However, he knew little about those around him. He'd been able to see those around Mahood, but he'd not had anything even approaching a vision of this new order. Which was strange in itself. Malfoy should _want_ him to see, Malfoy had known that Harry _could_ see, and would be the type to take a great deal of pleasure from showing him the horrors...

But Malfoy obviously had a reason for keeping his cards close to his chest. Otherwise, Harry knew, he would be flaunting his crimes openly. Draco wasn't the modest type.

Perhaps something could be done. The last time he'd brought up the possibility of an official spy network to the Winzangamut he'd been shot down rather spectacularly. However, he hadn't been the Minister of Magic at that point...

But what if he _didn't_ approach the Winzangamut? What if he simply set up such a group within the Ministry...

"Dad?" Meg's voice came from the doorway, shaking Harry out of his thoughts.

"Meggie..." Harry sat up straight, dropping his feet to the floor from where they were resting on the edge of his desk. "Come in."

"Can we talk?"

"Of course," Harry looked at her. She looked nervous.

Uh-oh. Meg was in seventh year. Harry had a sudden vision of Dean down on one knee in front of Ginny in the middle of the common room...

Harry swallowed.

"Dad..." she swallowed. "I wanted to talk to you... Professor McGonagall suggested that I ask you..."

"Meg," Harry came around the desk and pulled her towards the sofa gently. "What is it?"

"I..." Meg took a deep breath, seemed to have a bit of internal struggle for a moment, then swallowed, and spoke. "I want to be an auror."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't expected that. _That_ was what she was so bent out of shape about?

"Okay," he said, sure there was more.

"My grades are good... but..."

"But what, love?"

"But I don't know how Mum is going to take it," Meg looked up at him, her eyes alert. "And... it's not just that."

"What else?" Harry sighed.

"I want to be part of the Order."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Meg, you're not old enough..."

"You were only seventeen!"

"...or experienced enough."

"I've _seen_ what they can do, Dad... I want to help!"

"I know, love," he sighed. Ginny was going to flip out at this.

"They killed Uncle Percy..."

"Yes," he agreed.

"They've been after all of us for years..."

"Yes," he agreed again.

"They're killing babies, Dad..." Meg raised eyes to him. To Harry's surprise, they were full of angry tears. "Babies!"

Harry looked down at her. She looked so much like Ginny at that moment, his breath caught.

"Okay," Harry said. "One thing at a time. You want to become part of the Order."

"Yes," Meg nodded.

"Meg, I was only accepted to the Order because of the prophecy, because I was necessary to their plans. Otherwise, I assure you, they would _never_ have allowed it."

"But Tonks..."

"What about Tonks?" Harry asked.

"She wasn't that much older when she joined..."

"Twenty three," he said.

"So I..."

"Meg, listen to me. I'm going to tell you like it is. You're nearly an adult, of age, and a fully accredited witch, so I'm going to be straight with you, okay?"

"Okay," Meg's eyes were wide, but she seemed willing to listen.

"Members of the Order are selected based on ability, loyalty to the Light, and experience," Harry said. "I know you're an able witch, but you need to offer something more than that, even. Understand?"

"I have to train first," she nodded.

"Probably the best route for you, would be either Auror training or involvement with Hogwarts. I know you don't want to teach..."

"No," she shook her head.

"So, if you take Auror training, it's going to take you three years..."

"Three _years_? But you and Uncle Ron..."

"It was a special case, Meg. We were training for the final battle. _I_ was training for the final battle, and Ron and Hermione wouldn't let me go alone. But it took a great deal of time and hard work, not to mention the donation of personal time by those who trained us. I'm afraid that you simply can't have that."

Meg sighed, then nodded. "So, three years of auror training."

"Yes."

"Then what?"

Harry smiled. "Why don't we worry about that first, okay?"

"Three years is so long..."

"Meg, I want you to be better prepared than we were. When our training came to the test..."

"Dad?" she prompted him after a moment's hesitation.

"When your Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione and I were up against them... in the final battle... our training had never prepared us for the reality, Meg. I intend for you to be prepared, if this is what you want to do with your life."

Meg nodded solemnly.

"Although, I would like to point out that becoming a nun is a viable option..." Harry looked at her, noting her smile, and sighed. "No? Well, I suppose not."

"You'll help me?" she asked quietly.

"In every possible way I can, love," he said, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly. "My little girl, in Auror training..."

"It's not that big a deal, Dad..."

Harry leaned back from her and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm very, very proud of you, Meg. Your Dad would have been, too."

Meg's eyes misted. "I do miss him."

"I know. We all do." Harry admitted. "Meg, I don't want you to ever think... Your dad was my friend, and I loved him. I miss him terribly, and I feel very honored that your mother chose me to help her raise you three."

"Dad?" she said, after a moment.

"Hmm?"

"There were the five of you, in that final battle..."

"There were many more than five, love."

"No, I mean, you and Uncle Ron, and my dad, and Seamus Finnegan, and Professor Longbottom."

"Yes. We were all there."

"But two of you are gone now."

"Yes,"

"I'm scared."

"Why?" Harry's eyes showed concern.

"Because I worry sometimes that you might be next, and I don't know if I could take that, but thinking of Uncle Ron..." she caught her breath. "And I find myself hoping that it won't be either of you, but I really _like_ Professor Longbottom..."

"Meg, none of us can predict when our time will be," Harry said, hoping he could be forgiven for this one small lie. His time had been predicted several times. "We just have to accept what is dealt to us and work with it."

Meg was about to say something more when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Harry?" Ginny's voice came through.

"Will you help me tell her?" Meg asked quietly.

"If you want me to," he nodded. "But I think you're mum might surprise you."

Meg's answer was to roll her eyes in disbelief.

* * *

Hermione Granger stood in the middle of her room. Ginny and Janie were fussing at her dress, and Amelia was putting the finishing touches on her hair.

"You're gorgeous, Mione," Ginny said, stepping back. "Ron's going to faint."

Hermione turned and looked into the mirror on the back of her door. She saw a very slim, pale woman with flushed red cheeks. Her eyes were dark, and she took a deep steadying breath.

Amelia had arranged her hair for her. Hermione had planned on sweeping it up into a knot on top of her head, but Amelia had entered her room as they began their preparations earlier, saying she was under orders from Ron, and Hermione might as well shut up and let her get on with it. Hermione could see now that Amelia had swept the heavy curls back from her forehead and arranged them in ringlets down her back. It was very similar to the hairstyle she'd worn at Harry and Ginny's wedding.

Her wedding robes had been hurriedly purchased from the shame shop that Ginny had bought her gown at, and Hermione was as pleased with the effect as she had been in the shop. The gothic-styled robes accentuated her rather slight figure by drawing the attention to one of her best assets. She looked down at the modestly revealed cleavage and smiled, Ron might faint, after all.

"Hermione, love..." Molly bustled into the room, carrying a box. "Come and look."

"Molly? What is that?"

"It's just arrived," Molly's lips tightened into a worried smile. "For you."

Hermione moved to the bedside and sat down, taking the box from Molly. Lifting the lid, she smiled. The box was full of daisies.

"Oh, look!" Amelia sighed. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Read the card, Hermione!" Janie said.

"As if we need to, to know who sent them," Ginny smiled.

Hermione quietly read the card, then clutched it to her chest, closing her eyes tightly against the tears that threatened to fall.

"Mione?" Ginny whispered. "Okay, then?"

Silently, Hermione nodded, handing Ginny the card.

"Bloody hell, I didn't know he had it in him!" Ginny exclaimed with a misty smile.

"Ginny Potter! Language!" Molly said sharply. "What does it say, love?"

"Hermione?"

"Go ahead," Hermione was busy admiring the sheaf of daisies.

"_There were daisies growing in your parents front garden the first time Harry and I visited you there. I thought you might like to have this small part of them with you today. Ron._"

"Thank you, Molly, thank you so much," Hermione said quietly.

Molly looked down at her, "What on earth for, love?"

"For Ron," Hermione said simply.

* * *

Everyone was congregated in Harry's study. It was mostly the Weasley family and Order members, and the crowd was small for a wedding. Harry, Ron and Bill stood in front of the fireplace, waiting for the women to come down.

Harry looked over to where Meg, Mary and Maddy sat next to Severus and Minerva. Meg held Jamie on her knee, while Sev bounced Lily Mione. Harry smiled ruefully. Sev had taken to calling the little girl "Li'l Mione", much to Ginny's disgust. Harry thought it was probably the first time in the elderly wizard's life he'd ever publicly shown affection to anyone. He looked beyond them to where Charlie sat with his boys. Marc and David were ten, twins and pretty much constantly into some sort of mischief. They reminded Harry strongly of Fred and George, full of mischief and brighter than your average kid. Bad combination.

Harry sighed. Meg in seventh year, Mary in fifth, and Maddy in third... the other Weasley grandchildren preparing for Hogwarts. They grew up so unbelievably quickly. Harry could remember the day Meg was born like it was yesterday. He, Seamus and Neville all pacing in the lounge at Dean and Ginny's home, along with the rest of her family, waiting for Dean to come downstairs. The Firewhiskey they had consumed later in the Leaky Cauldron, toasting the new parents. Harry's heart aching while he tried to be as ebullient as the others, knowing what he had lost and never thought to regain.

Now, that baby was grown, about to graduate, wanting to know how to become an Order member...

Harry realized that, in the not too far distant future, this world would be theirs. He and the others would be "the parents", as Molly and Arthur, Mr and Mrs Granger, and others had been. Those standing in the way of Harry and his friends hearing the truth, for their own good. Harry understood now, as he'd never understood before. Meg wasn't nearly old enough...

But when he'd been her age, he had only been a little over a year off from defeating Voldemort. One year old than her, he had been in the thick of sixteen hour days spent training to be an auror. One year younger than her, he'd already made love to her mother, and lost her to Dean Thomas. Six months older and he had witnessed her agreeing to marry another man, his friend.

Life was tricky, depending on exactly which perspective you were looking at it from. Harry remembered fifth year vividly. The injustices of being ignored, sheltered, protected... lied to. He didn't feel much different as a person than he had then, really. He had certainly known that life wasn't as rosy as some would like to make it out to be. But his role had changed, now he was the parent, and his child wasn't nearly old enough to face the challenges that he had had forced on him.

He smiled. Meg would react to that in much the same way Ginny had reacted the many times that he and Ron had told her _she_ was too young to come along when they threw themselves into danger. Not well.

Drawn from his thoughts, he watched as Molly and Amelia entered the room. Amelia sat down in a chair next to Charlie, smiling and clutching his hand. Molly came forward, leaned down to have a word with Arthur, then sat as her husband stood and left the room. Ron and Harry traded a glance, then both looked at Bill.

"I have no idea," Bill said, watching the door. "Want me to find out?"

"If it's anything important, we'll know soon enough," Harry said.

Moments later, Janie came through the door, a huge smile on her face for Ron and Harry, turning to brilliance when she looked at Bill.

"You know, Bill," Ron said breathlessly. "I hope that Mione looks at me like that when we've been married twenty years."

"She will, Ron," Bill said quietly, his eyes still on his pretty wife.

It seemed only second later that Ginny came through the door, coming to stand next to Bill. She turned, and they all looked to see Hermione Granger, her arms full of daisies, walk into the room on the arm of Ron's dad.

From that point, Ron seemed in a daze. Hermione went the entire ceremony with tears on her lashes, and a happy smile on her face. Ron made the appropriate responses, then pulled her close as Harry performed the binding spell over them.

"My family," Hermione whispered in his ear. "My husband, and my family. Thank you."

* * *

_A nice fluffy chapter from me to you for the weekend... I promise, we're going to get back to business soon!_

_**James Milamber:** 'Idiot check'? I love that... must find a place for it in the story...._

_**CrazyPsychoBananaHead:** Okay, very strange name, but I'm willing to overlook the mental imagery it brings on... R/H is SOOOO much more beleivable than H/H, don't you think?_

_**LaGau:** Thank you!_

_**Shotgunn:** Avril Lavigne? Cool... reference to her almost made it into my story... but there is that little issue of not using REAL celeb's names... fanfic gets touchy about it, I understand. Yes – I love the British music artists. I've been listening to Annie Lennox for (cough, cough) twenty (cough, cough) years... and Sting... well, enough said, right? Apparently they're neighbors in London. Hell of a neighborhood, is all I can say!  
_

_**Merlindamage:** Mistakes? MISTAKES? I am sure you jest, my dear! They're not mistakes... they're clarified accuracies about the TRUE story (grin!!) You will DEFINITELY be hearing more on the bloodlines... get ready for it!_

_**Pdlegirl:** All for you, my dear – wedding of the year!_

_CQ_


	12. Chapter Twelve: Christmas Day

Chapter Twelve: Christmas Day

Christmas morning dawned bright and beautiful. There was a thin covering of snow on the ground from the night before, nothing like what they'd often had at Hogwarts, so much further north in Scotland, but enough to make things look festive.

Harry took a cup of tea to Ginny in bed, then, smiling at her grumbling, and patting the little bulge of her belly that was just becoming noticable, he left to shower and dress while the house was still quiet.

Half an hour later, doors were opening and closing all over the house, the sound of running feet up and down the stairs and the scent of bacon and coffee in the air, greeted Harry as he stepped back out of their room, Ginny beside him.

"Happy Christmas, love," Ginny said quietly.

"Happy Christmas, Gin," he put an arm around her and they headed for the stairs, where they met with Ron and Hermione who were heading down, as well.

"And how is the happy couple this morning?" Ginny teased.

Ron flushed, Hermione glowed. "Very happy, thank you! Happy Christmas, Harry!"

Harry hugged her tightly, then shook hands with Ron, and the foursome headed down together.

The kitchen was in chaos. Molly, Anna and Amelia were trying to make breakfast. Alicia, Angelina and Janie were setting the table and herding children, and Harry noticed Meg and Mary, both with a twin on their laps, trying to drink their tea.

"I wondered where they were," Harry grinned.

"We heard them early," Meg said, "so we brought them into our room for a while, then brought them down here. Grandma Molly seemed okay with it."

Harry laughed. "I bet she was."

"Grandma said we couldn't open presents until everyone had breakfast!" Maddy said, a distinctly grumpy look on her face. "And Uncle Charlie isn't even _up_ yet!"

"I'm up, I'm up..." Charlie ambled into the kitchen. "It's not possible to sleep late around here."

"You're not _supposed_ to sleep late on _Christmas morning_, Uncle Charlie!" Maddy said with disgust. "Can we open our gifts now?"

"After breakfast, love," Ginny smiled, patting Maddy on the head as she sat down to have Molly place a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her. Ginny looked a bit green, pushed the plate away, and sipped at her tea. Ron, seeing this, grinned and hooked her plate with his left hand while eating with his right, pulling it up in front of him.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"What?" Ron looked up at his brand new wife. "She's not going to eat it!"

"It's okay, Hermione," Ginny laughed. "I'm used to it, and I'm really not hungry anyhow."

"You have to eat, love," Molly looked pointedly at her.

"Mum..." Ginny sent her a warning look.

"Ginny!" Molly returned, staring her daughter down. After all the years spent in the company of this family, Harry knew that when Molly said 'eat', you ate.

He looked up from his plate to see most of the eyes in the room on them. He swallowed, then looked over at Ginny. She had insisted they keep her pregnancy to themselves until she passed the four month point. She was nervous about her ability to carry a baby at thirty six. Harry had thought that this was a silly concern, as she had carried five children easily prior to this, but was perfectly willing to go along with it.

But with everyone looking at them, he turned eyes on her that said it was time.

Ginny glared at him, then, with a sigh, smiled, and stood.

"Alright then, everyone? Look," She turned sideways to the table, drew her loose sweater across her belly and pointed to the noticable distention.

"Mum?" Meg's eyes grew wide. "Really?"

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron said through a mouthful of egg. "Again?"

Molly, who had known full well what was wrong with Ginny recently, smiled and kissed Harry on the cheek before patting her daughter on the shoulder and turning back to the stove.

Congratulations were made, and the girls were completely overexcited, even before they managed to congregate in the lounge for the opening of gifts.

* * *

The floor was strewn with paper which the gifts had been wrapped in moments before. Harry sat back, rather stunned at the short work the children had made of the pile of presents. The room had been complete mayhem for the last half hour.

"Amazing, isn't it?" Hermione smiled from where she sat on the arm of Harry's chair.

"That's not quite the word I would have used," Harry grinned back at her.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Hermione looked down at him, her eyes losing some of their sparkle, but her smile remaining.

"Happy Christmas, Mione," he returned, smiling at her pensive look. He could almost read her thoughts, could see how she was struggling with the knowledge she had of his future.

"Harry, we need to get ready if we're going to..." Ginny said from where she sat beside her mother on the sofa.

"I know, love." Harry nodded.

"What's going on?" Ron asked.

"Ginny and I are taking the kids to meet my cousin," Harry said quietly, but apparently, not quietly enough. His comment drew the attention of everyone in the room.

"Alone?" George asked.

"Just us, yes," Harry confirmed.

"Harry," Bill stood. "You can't be wandering about Surrey alone."

"We're apparating into their back yard, Bill, and then going directly into the house. We won't be 'wandering' anywhere."

"Still..."

"Look, Harry," Tonks stood from where she'd seated herself in front of the tree upon her arrival earlier. "I know I'm not much good as an auror anymore, but let me come along... you won't even see me, but I can be an extra set of eyes..."

"Tonks, I'm not going to interrupt your Christmas..."

"Harry," Charlie stood. "Tonks has a point. I'm coming, too."

"Everyone, just relax, okay?" Harry said. "We're just going for a cup of tea and a short visit..."

"Good, then we'll be back in time for lunch, then, won't we?" Fred said, nodding to Alicia, who smiled up at him as he stood.

Harry sighed.

"Forget it, Harry," Arthur said. "A few sets of eyes watching the neighborhood for you won't do any harm, and we'll be back in time for Molly's Christmas lunch."

"I won't be serving until two, at any rate, love," Molly nodded. "And I'd feel better if Ginny and the girls were guarded..."

_And how am I supposed to argue with that?_ Harry thought. He sighed again, stood and held out his hand to Ginny to help her to her feet.

"Fine," he agreed. "And thank you."

Half an hour later, they stood, Ginny and Meg each holding a twin, and Harry holding the hands of Mary and Maddy. Meg had learned to apparate the year before, and had been practicing while holding the babies. She could manage it with one, but not both.

"See you there," Harry nodded to Ron and Hermione, who both were going to apparate with them.

With a pop, they disapparated from the den and into the back corner of Malcolm and Marion's back garden, under a large apple tree, where they would be hidden from any neighbor's eyes.

Glancing around, Harry noted that the back garden was empty, and nodding to Ron and Hermione, led them all towards the back door.

Malcolm was waiting for them.

"Harry," the other man smiled. "We've been waiting for you. I was so glad you called..."

"I thought it was time our families met, Malcolm," Harry replied as they were led through the garden doors and through the dining room into the lounge. There, Marion was sitting on the sofa, watching two children happily opening Christmas gifts in front of a huge, brightly lit Christmas tree.

"Marion, they're here," Malcolm said.

Ginny smiled at the woman who stood, rubbing her hands on a her jean-clad hips before coming forward and holding out her hand to Ginny.

"You must be Ginny," she smiled, then looked uncertainly at Ron and Hermione behind them.

"Malcolm, do you remember Ron?" Harry asked, stepping back.

"Vaguely," Malcolm nodded, adding ruefully, "I remember your twin brothers much better, actually."

"Yes, well, they're about somewhere..." Ron said, his blue eyes taking in every detail of the room before he shook Malcolm's hand.

"About?" Marion looked curiously at Harry.

"Security, love," Malcolm said quietly. "I'm sure that that is what Ron means."

"Security?" Marion looked startled.

"Being the family of the Minister of Magic is sometimes..." Ginny glanced up at Harry. "Well, we tend to be pretty well protected."

"Not to mention your mother would have skinned me alive if I had insisted on everyone staying home and letting us come alone," Harry said with a smile. "Marion, Malcolm, my wife, Ginny, and our daughters... this is Meg and Mary and Maddy. The twins are James and Lily Mione. And you know Ron, and this is... this is my sister, and Ron's wife, Hermione."

"Sister?" It was Malcolm's turn to look confused.

"We... it's a Wizarding thing..." Hermione stepped forward, holding out her hand. "Kind of like a mug... like an adoption in the non-magical world."

"But I know you," Marion studied Hermione for a moment. "You're... you're that reporter... the one who was reporting from the middle east..."

"Yes. In your world I'm known as Maura Kennedy," Hermione agreed. "It's a very long story. I've known Harry and Ron since our first day of school at Hogwarts. I took a... different path."

"Hermione Granger..." Marion agreed. "From the books."

"Yes." Hermione looked uncomfortable for a moment, and Malcolm, noticing this, stepped back.

"Well, David, Susan, come and meet our guests."

When Harry turned to look at Malcolm's children, he was momentarily startled. David, Malcolm's son, looked exactly as his father had at that age. He was hefty, as his father had been at the time. Malcolm had continued to gain weight into adolescence, but at eleven, he had not been as hugely fat as he had gotten later. In front of Harry stood a stocky boy, and a slim, quiet, dark-haired girl who had a look about her that Harry recognized, as well.

Not exactly, of course, but there was a very strong Evans family resemblance.

"David, Susan, this is my cousin, Harry, and his family... Ginny, and the girls..."

After introductions, they took seats around the lounge, and Harry studied the children. Meg sat beside her mother, with Mary on the other side, but Maddy was down on the floor with the twins and Susan, who seemed to be shyly taken with the babies. David was occupied with his new toys.

"Good year, then, Harry?" Malcolm asked.

Harry looked up at his cousin who was holding out a glass of what appeared to be eggnog to him. How much to tell him?

"Yes, and no, Malcolm," he said quietly, taking the glass.

Malcolm looked into the green eyes staring back at him, glanced at Ron and then the children, and nodded. "How about we move into the den, then? Leave the women and children to... talk?"

Ron glanced around the room, made eye contact with both Hermione and Ginny and glanced around the room again, noting the doors and entries.

"Mione?" He inquired, his question unspoken.

"We're fine, Ron," Hermione nodded, indicating her hip, where Ron and Harry both knew her wand was strapped. Ron nodded, turning to Harry and indicating he was comfortable with leaving the room.

"You two are unreal," Malcolm said quietly as he led them from the room, across the hall, and into another room. Harry had seldom been in this room as a child, it had been his uncle's private domain for doing business at home. Malcolm indicated to the comfortable sofas which sat in front of the fire and waited for his guests to sit before seating himself. "How do you do that?"

"What?" Ron asked, looking straight at the other man. Harry could see the look in Ron's eyes. He was willing to give Malcolm the benefit of the doubt, but was still on guard with him. His blue eyes were hard.

"You kind of... communicate without saying a word."

"We've been friends for over twenty five years, Malcolm," Harry explained.

"We've guarded each other's backs in enough battles," Ron said. "It kind of comes with the territory."

Malcolm just shook his head. "Amazing."

"Malcolm, I don't want to put a damper on your Christmas, but..." Harry sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands.

"But I need to know," Malcolm said quietly. "I think I've got a pretty good idea, Harry."

Ron's eyebrows rose, and Harry nodded.

"You've been following the news then?"

"This muddle in the Middle East..." Malcolm nodded. "It's not just us, is it?"

"No," Harry agreed. "But that problem was... well, the original instigator is dead, now."

"Osama bin Laden?"

"No. Bin Laden was merely..." Harry didn't know quite how to put this. "He was what you would think of as one of Mahood's generals... the muggle world believed him to be the leader, but the true leader behind it... well, he was a very powerful wizard, known as Philip Mahood, and he's dead now."

"How?" Malcolm asked, his eyes firmly on the dark-haired man he had grown up with.

Harry looked him straight in the eye. "I killed him."

Malcolm swallowed. "So there are no more wizards involved?"

"Oh, no, they're involved," Ron shook his head. "They're just busy jockeying for position right now."

"Oh," Malcolm took a drink. "And when they..."

"Malcolm, it's not going to be good," Harry said quietly. "Right now, I can't tell you what is going to happen. We know who has stepped forward as a leader in England, but we're not sure exactly who is following his lead, and we don't know how far his influence is extending."

"And these stories I'm hearing, Harry... of gas leak explosions and house fires? And funny lights seen over houses? They're everywhere...."

"They're not gas leak explosions or house fires, Malcolm," Harry said, watching the other man closely for his reaction.

Malcolm swallowed, then locked gazes with Harry. "Is my family in danger, Harry?"

"I don't know, Malcolm. I really believe that they don't know who you are, or where you are. Even if someone did have knowledge of your identity, which is a very, very remote possibility, the wizarding world believes I have had no contact with you in twenty years or more."

"But you can't make any promises."

"No," Harry agreed.

"What should I do?"

"Live your life, Malcolm." Ron said. "There is nothing more you can do. If you are on their list... well..."

"There wouldn't be anything I _could_ do, would there?"

"Not really, no."

"What if I got a gun...?"

Ron laughed without humor, "Guns would not be any protection against a fully trained wizard."

"Ron's right, Malcolm, you would have to be faster than... well, it's just not possible. However, I will arrange for some security if you..."

"No, Harry," Malcolm shook his head. "As you said, they have no idea of who we are, and even if they did, they think we're... less than nothing to you. There's really no reason, is there?"

"No," Harry agreed. "But if you need me... you call, right?"

"Of course," Malcolm nodded, a smile on his face, but a shadow in his eyes.

* * *

In the lounge, Hermione and Ginny chatted comfortably with Marion. Ginny had been prepared to dislike these muggles, after everything Malcolm had put Harry through as a child. She still wasn't sure about Malcolm, but Marion seemed quite nice, eager to share stories of their children, and shyly asking questions about their world.

Hermione watched the windows and doors, keeping a ear out for any odd noises. Once, she thought she saw a glimpse of movement outside the front window, and stood, walking casually over to look out, arms crossed comfortably in front of her, but her fingers slipping unnoticed around the handle of her wand under her jacket.

Looking out, she glimpsed movement to her right, and turned quickly to see Tonks walking down the street.

Turning back to the room, she saw Ginny's eyes questioningly on her, and shook her head.

"Tonks," she said. Ginny relaxed.

"Excuse me?" Marion glanced between them, not understanding the exchange.

"Sorry," Hermione smiled. "Nymphadora Tonks just passed by... one of the people who came with us to keep the neighborhood... secure."

"Oh..." Marion looked surprised for a moment, then blushed. "It was a bit of a shock when Malcolm told me who he was. In relation to Harry, I mean."

"I can imagine," Hermione said. "When I was first told of the magical world, it was a bit of a surprise, too."

"You?" Marion asked. "But you're a..."

"Witch, yes. But I'm also a muggleborn."

"But I thought...?" Marion asked.

"There aren't as many of us as there appear to be in the books," Hermione confirmed. "But we do exist."

"They're quite rare, actually," Ginny said. "It has a lot to do with the upbringing of the child. Magic is present in all children, or the prospect of it, at any rate. Children who are encouraged to have an active imagination... who aren't encouraged to grow up too soon, tend to retain the ability better, and there are several other factors, as well, but... overall, only one in about one hundred children at Hogwarts are muggleborn."

"But... but it's still possible?" Marion's voice seemed faint.

"Of course," Hermione smiled. "I'm living proof."

"But... how did you know?"

Hermione grinned. "Getting a letter from Hogwarts kind of gives you a clue... but having a witch show up on your doorstep and scare your parents rigid does it, as well."

"But were there any signs? Before?"

"Manifestations, you mean?" Hermione asked. At Marion's nod, she continued. "Looking back, yes. At the time, of course, they just seemed like weird things that could happen to anyone. I remember my cat was up a tree once, when I was about six or seven. I'd only just gotten her... she was still a kitten, and stuck good. I was at the bottom of the tree crying, because I couldn't get her to come down, and she was up there, crying, because she couldn't get down, and the next thing I knew, she was in my arms. My father said she must have jumped to me, but she didn't.... she was just... there."

"Magical children tend to make things happen during times of high emotion," Ginny explained. "They don't mean to, but they have physical manifestations of the emotion they're feeling, or somehow solve a problem that is causing them emotional upset."

"What about..." Marion smiled. "What about repairing things that have been broken?"

"Yes, that can happen, too, if the child is very upset about the object being broken, or feels a great deal of fear about the consequences of breaking it, and that it was their fault. Why?" Ginny looked curiously at the other woman.

"Just... nothing," Marion took a deep breath. "What would be the... process involved if a non-magical child was found to have magical ability?"

"You mean a muggleborn, not a non-magical child," Ginny smiled. "If they've shown manifestations, then they _are_ magical... they simply require training to retain that ability."

"So... Hogwarts then?"

"Well, there are other schools," Ginny said. "But Hogwarts is the best."

"You're talking to the most authoritative person there is, Marion," Hermione grinned. "Ginny is the muggle admissions administrator for the school."

"Oh?" Marion turned surprised eyes back on the redheaded woman. "How do you manage that and five children?"

"Well, the girls are at Hogwarts, and the twins are too little to really be much bother at all," Ginny said. "If magical ability has been detected in your child, they will receive a letter from the school the year of their eleventh birthday, offering them a placement."

"Detected?"

"The Ministry maintains magical monitors throughout the country," Hermione explained. "That's how they detected me, by the magic I was doing without knowing it."

"I see," Marion said. "What if... they're missed by these monitors?"

"It happens," Ginny said. "The child, if they have a very strong ability, will continue to do things that seem inexplicable. Eventually, because they aren't being trained, they'll come to.. well..."

"What?"

"What Ginny is saying," Hermione explained gently, "Is that most people who have magical ability that goes undetected and untrained... well, they don't lead very easy lives. Many end up on the fringe of society, because they've been labeled as 'strange' or 'odd' their entire lives, because strange and odd things happen around them. They tend to give off a feeling of unrest, making them difficult to feel comfortable around, and these things tend to make them very defensive people. They turn to many... alternative lifestyles... where personal acceptance isn't quite so necessary."

"Criminal behavior," Marion said quietly.

"Sometimes," Ginny confirmed. "Sometimes... well, when something happens and the perpetrator explains it by saying the 'saw a light' or 'felt a tingling sensation' just before something happened, and it happens repeatedly, well... sometimes they end up in psychiatric hospitals..."

Marion seemed to blanche. "Not a very nice thing to think about, is it?"

"No," Hermione agreed, turning to the boy who was suddenly standing next to her. "Hello, David."

"I've read your books," he said firmly, looking directly at her.

"My books?"

"You're Hermione Granger. My Dad's cousin is Harry Potter, and Dudley was really my Dad," he stated.

"Yes, David. You're right," she agreed.

"Did you really fight Voldemort?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, David, we did."

"And there really is such a thing as wizards and witches?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "I'm a witch."

"And Death Eaters."

"Yes, there are Death Eaters," she agreed.

"I know," he nodded. "Cuz I saw one. They wear funny robes and masks."

With that, he turned and went back to his new toys, leaving the three women and Meg sitting, stunned.

"David?" Meg moved toward him, sitting cross legged on the floor beside him. "Where did you see a Death Eater?"

"At school," he said.

"On a film?" Meg asked. All three women wondering if he was referring to the movies that had been recently released based on the books.

"No, in the play yard."

"In the..." Marion went white. Hermione thought it was probably a good thing she was sitting down. "When?"

"Last week before school ended."

"David, what was he doing?" Meg asked.

"Just walking. He walked out of the shrubbery, then kind of looked around, then disappeared. He made a pop, then he wasn't there anymore."

"David, did anyone else see him?" Meg asked.

"Nope. Just me. I was..." he went red, then glanced at his mother, then went back to his toy.

"David, was this when you were outside without permission? When Mr Nott called me?"

"Nott?" Hermione gasped.

"Marion, where is David's school?" Ginny asked urgently.

"In the Cotswolds... near Chipping Campden."

Ginny turned to Hermione, "Mione...?"

Hermione nodded and left the room, heading in the direction the men had gone.

"What?" Marion said softly. "What is it?"

"Marion, how long has David been going to this school?"

"For... two years now... why?"

"How did you hear about it?"

"It's Malcolm's old school..."

Ginny took a breath, stopping to think for a minute. "Who is Mr Nott?"

"The Headmaster..."

"Nott?" Harry asked as he strode into the room, closely followed by Ron, who immediately stalked around, checking out windows. Malcolm stood in the middle of the room, looking lost.

"Mr. Nott?" Malcolm said. "He's the Headmaster at David's school, why? What's wrong?"

"Theodore Nott," Harry said. "Is a Death Eater."

"But.." Malcolm swallowed. "This man's name isn't Theodore. It's Wilfrid!"

"Wilfred Nott?" Harry said, pulling out his cel phone and quickly dialing.

"Yes... he's..."

"Bill?" Harry spoke into the phone. "Get here, now."

"But I don't understand..." Marion said.

"Marion," Ginny took the woman's hands and sat down on the sofa next to her. "Theodore Nott is a very well known Death Eater, as was his father before him. His father served Lord Voldemort... Theodore was in the ranks of Philip Mahood... and now... well, we think he might be in service to the new Dark Lord."

"Who is?"

"It's believed to be Draco Malfoy," Hermione said quietly.

The doorbell rang, and Harry nodded to Malcolm. Malcolm held out his hand in invitation for Harry to open it. Striding down the hallway, Harry threw open the door to find Bill and Tonks both there.

"What's happened?" Bill asked as Harry closed the door behind them.

"Where is Theodore Nott?"

"We have no idea, right now, Harry. He hasn't been sighted since the battle with Mahood, but no body was recovered. Why?"

"Because the Headmaster of my cousin's son's school is named Wilfred Nott, and because young David says he has seen Death Eaters near the school."

Bill's eyebrows rose. "Where is said school?"

"The Cotswolds," Malcolm cut in, looking at Bill and recognizing him as a member of the Weasley family. "Just outside Chipping Campden."

"Nott came from Blockley..." Bill looked alarmed.

"And that is?" Harry shook his head.

"Next county over," Hermione said quietly. "Harry..."

"Family," Harry said.

"One could assume that," Bill agreed.

"When is David due back at school, Malcolm?" Harry asked.

"Not for two weeks yet. The sixth of January."

"How many students in that school?"

"About three hundred, I would think."

Harry paced, thinking.

"Harry, if Nott _is_ in that neighborhood, it's entirely likely that Malfoy..."

"Is as well," Harry continued to pace. "Yes, Bill. I know."

"And if that is the headquarters of..."

"Yes," Harry nodded, stopping and turning to his cousin. "Malcolm, have you noticed anything strange when dropping David off or picking him up? Anything... odd?"

"Odd?" Malcolm shook his head. "No... not at all. It's a school, Harry. It was _my_ school."

Harry nodded. "When you were there... did you ever see anything..."

"Magical?" Malcolm laughed. "No, Harry. Nothing."

"Any... uneasy feelings around any of the faculty?"

"No, of course not!"

"Malcolm..." Marion tugged on his arm. "Tell them!"

"Marion..."

"What?" Harry's cool green gaze swept over both of them.

Malcolm sighed. "It's just kids, Harry. Really, it's nothing."

"Then there is no harm in telling me, is there?"

"David got into a spot of trouble... he's been... well, he's been unhappy there, and run off a couple of times. Then, well, the week before school ended for the term, in addition to being caught outside during classtime, he and some of the other boys... well..."

"Malcolm, this could be important."

"The boys call one of the teachers 'the witch'. Some of them say..."

"Say what?"

"That she brews potions in the cellars."

Harry, Hermione and all three Weasley's in the room exchanged glances.

"What kind of potions?" Hermione asked quietly.

"She's the bloody _chemistry_ teacher, for God's sake!" Malcolm said. "They're _kids_. They say things like that without realizing..."

"What is the chemistry teacher's name, Malcolm?"

Malcolm sighed, glancing over at his son who was watching his father with wide eyes, then turned back to Harry and the others. "Mrs. Goyle. Millicent Goyle."

* * *

_To my lovely readers, you're all more appreciated than you could possibly imagine. You have no idea of the boost I get from reading your reviews... please keep them coming!_

_First, I have to apologise. I know that this is an especially long chapter, but there just wasn't a good place to cut it. Things seem to be coming together nicely in the personal lives of our characters... it's probably time to shake things up a bit...Hang on... it's about to get rather bumpy!_

_CQ_

_**CrazyPsychoBananaHead:** I agree. But that will be the last one, I think. For this generation, anyhow!_

_**Merlindamage:** Malfoy has a role to play yet... hang in there!_

_**Pdlegirl:** How little it takes to make you happy! Ron & Hermione were predestined, absolutely! I like a good fluffy chapter every now and then, too... but now I think it's time we get back to business..._

_**Shotgunn:** Sorry to hear you've not been well. Hope it doesn't last long. Hey, Snape isn't the prat he is made to be in the books. He's a prat, just not quite as bad... and you're lovely, giving me that little compliment. However, I would have to admit that twenty-two was a few years ago... I actually started listening to Annie Lennox in my "early" teens!_

_**Elise:** Thanks!_

_**James Milamber:** Yeah, yeah... one of those things that my readers call a mistake and I call a clarification.... in actual fact, it came about because of a poor caffeine choice and writing at three in the morning, coupled with a breakdown in proofing... shoot me._

_**Larna Mandrea:** One day, I will find out where you are and what you're doing. You seem to be online at the strangest times... and standardized testing on a Saturday morning? Ewww. I have a basic kneejerk shudder reaction whenever I hear the words "standardized testing".... it's the homeschooler in me, I guess!_

_CQ_


	13. Chapter Thirteen: Christmas Day II

Chapter Thirteen: Christmas Day II

"Do you think it could be...?" Hermione turned horrified eyes to Harry. "Harry?"

"What is it?" Malcolm said. "You know this person?"

"Malcolm..." Harry paced. "Gregory Goyle was a... friend... of Malfoy's when we were in school. There was also a girl in their group by the name of Millicent Bulstrode... Millicent's prospects weren't exactly... wide. Nor were Goyle's. Both of them being names we know, along with the Nott family involved, and in that area... I think that David's school or some place in the nearby area might be the headquarters of the group we've been looking for."

"In the bloody _Cotswolds_?" Ron breathed. "Harry..."

"Where better, Ron? Hilly country, lots of tiny villages... lots of tourists coming and going... where better to hide than in plain sight?"

Bill cleared his throat, glancing at Harry, then over at the children.

"Yes..." Harry nodded. "Right then. Ginny, Hermione, Tonks, I want you to take the kids back to the Manor..."

"Harry!" Hermione turned shocked eyes on him. "Where are _you_ going?"

"Nowhere, Hermione," Harry said calmly. "We'll be right behind you, but I need to speak to Malcolm for a few minutes. Bill, if you could round up the others and send them on back, Ron and I will meet you back there, in say, ten minutes?"

"Done, Harry," Bill turned and headed out the front door. Ginny and Meg holding the twins and Tonks and Hermione each with a hand on Mary and Maddy, disapparated with a pop. Harry noticed David and Susan looking on in awe.

Harry turned back to Malcolm and his family.

"You are more than welcome to come with us," Harry said. "You would be safe, but I can't promise you that you would be able to return to the... muggle world anytime soon."

"What?" Malcolm turned and looked at him, his eyes clouded.

"Malcolm, we spoke earlier, and you know the situation. But I had no idea about David's school at that point. I have no idea of why they are concentrated in that area. I don't know if it's just a coincidence, or if they know about David's relationship to me..."

"We just won't send him back there," Marion said, rather desperately. "He can go to the village school this term..."

"If he suddenly disappears from school, and they are watching him, and they do know of his connection with me, they have all the information they need to come after you," Harry said.

"So what, we just send him back into the... into the lions den?" Malcolm said.

"Malcolm... you need to do one of two things. Either accept that it is simply a coincidence, and send David back there, or leave here entirely, and come with me to Potter Manor."

"Harry..." Malcolm sat down. "We have a life here..."

"Malcolm," Harry sat down across from him. "That life wasn't going to last much longer, anyhow, if they know who you are and where you are. You're exactly what they want to use as examples. People with connections to the wizarding world, with adolescent children."

Malcolm looked at him, his pale blue eyes frightened, but determined.

"Harry, I can't leave right now," he said. "I can't... my parents left a lot of debts, and I'm just now getting them paid off. I may be wrong, but I can't just up and leave in the night and leave those things undone. We've just started to get back on our feet, and..."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes. How to make him understand?

"Malcolm..."

"No, Harry, I understand what you're saying, I... I do. Really," he swallowed. "But I can't leave right now."

Harry nodded. This Malcolm had changed dramatically from the child he had known, and Harry understood that this man's self-respect had been hard won, especially after the childhood he had led. He could understand Malcolm's reasoning, but somehow he had to make him understand...

"I know I have no right to ask this of you..." Malcolm swallowed again. "And I wouldn't blame you if you told me to go blow... but...will you take Marion and the children? I will... I'll get things settled here. I'll say I've been offered a position overseas... and Marion and the children have gone on ahead... Harry, please, take them and keep them safe?"

"No!" Marion cried. "I'm not leaving you, Malcolm. I'm not!"

"Marion..."

"_I'm not!_" she said furiously.

"Harry..." Malcolm turned pained eyes to him. "I'm sorry... I'm asking you, please take David and Susan. Marion won't leave... I know her... she won't now that she's said so, but take the children and keep them safe. I'll call you as soon as... as soon as I've settled up here."

Harry nodded. "I'll position some security..."

"No," Malcolm said. "It would only draw attention to the street."

"No..."

"You're telling me that _you_ can detect magic, but _they_ can't?" Malcolm looked at his cousin.

"I don't know, Malcolm. I don't know how powerful..."

"Exactly," Malcolm said firmly, then turned to his wife. "Marion, go and pack a bag for the children. Quickly."

As Marion scurried from the room, David and Susan following at their father's command, Malcolm turned back to Harry.

"Harry, I should be able to make the arrangements to sell the house and take care of what business I have to within the week. I'm going to try to persuade Marion to go to you, but I doubt I'll be able to..."

"We could just take her," Ron suggested.

Malcolm looked at Ron doubtfully, "And how long have you been married?"

Ron flushed.

"No, Ron," Harry said quietly. "It has to be her choice. Ginny would kill me if..."

"Hermione, too, I guess," Ron agreed. "But if it's for her own safety..."

"You don't know Marion," Malcolm smiled sadly. "I pity the Death Eater who chooses to take her on."

Harry sighed. Malcolm really didn't have a clue if he believed that.

* * *

Their return to Potter Manor was done quickly after another very loud and emotional conversation with Malcolm's wife. Harry had stood back and watched the dark-haired woman as Malcolm tried to convince her to go with Harry and the children. She adamantly refused.

"Are you telling me," she asked her husband, her narrowed eyes taking in his flushed face and obvious frustration. "Are you telling me that you don't expect to get out of this?"

"No, of course not..." Malcolm said. "I'd be with you in a couple days..."

"Then there is no reason for me to not stay with you, is there?"

"Marion..."

"I made a vow, Malcolm Rivers... I made a vow to stand by your side _till death do us part_. Your mother told me that I'd never last it, that I would never be able to stand next to you for the duration, that you needed someone stronger..."

"She was wrong!" He said. "But..."

"Absolutely, she was wrong," Marion agreed quietly. "But if I run now, leave you now, what would that prove? It would prove her right, Malcolm. And you _know_ I'm not the person she made me out to be!"

"So you'll risk your life because of what some batty old woman said? She's _dead_, Marion!" Malcolm said angrily.

"It's got nothing to do with her," Marion said. "It's got everything to do with me. I don't run. I never have. And I am true to my word. Not for anyone else, but for me. I thought you told me that I taught you that?"

At this, Malcolm was silent.

"Now, Harry," Marion turned to him, handing him the quickly packed bag. "Protect my children."

Harry looked into her dark eyes and saw an enviable strength there. He reached out, took the bag, and then placed a hand on David's shoulder. "I will, Marion. I promise."

A moment of understanding passed between the two of them, and Harry nodded. Marion stepped forward, hugging each of the children in turn, and then turned back to Malcolm before they could see the tears in her eyes.

"Let's call the estate agent, then, shall we? We have work to do."

Ron held out his hand to Susan, who shyly took it, and with a pop, they were standing in Harry's study at Potter Manor.

"Oh, dear!" Molly rushed forward to them, pulling the children into her arms and hugging them tightly. Harry looked up to see Ginny and Hermione there, as well. As he put the bag down on the floor, Bill apparated with a pop into the room.

"The others are all on their way... what's this?" Bill looked at the children, who were looking mildly frightened, and reacting to Molly's comfort by nestling in closer to her. Susan had her face buried in Molly's ample bosom.

"Malcolm and Marion will be coming as soon as..." Harry sighed. "They had to make some arrangements before they came. I need the Order assembled, Bill. Preferably within the hour, but until then... I think those of us who are here need to be brought up to speed?"

"Done, Harry. In the meantime, I'll try to get some information on Nott..."

Harry turned to Ginny, who now had her arms around David. Susan was still buried against Molly.

"Ginny, Molly... can you get the children settled? And find a room for Malcolm and Marion... I hope they won't be long, a couple of days at the most."

"Of course, love..."

"Susan? David?" Harry squatted down so he was just below eye level with the boy, and looking directly into the green eyes of the girl.

"Sir?" David said quietly.

"You're safe here. I promise you that. If you need anything, you just ask. Understand?"

"Yes," David nodded.

"Yeth," Susan said quietly. Harry noticed the lisp and smiled.

"You're safe here," he said again, not knowing what else to say. He glanced up at Ginny, who smiled softly down at him, then took the children's hands and led them from the room.

"They're safe," Ron said. "But Marion and Malcolm..."

"Why wouldn't she come?" Hermione asked.

"Wouldn't leave Malcolm," Ron explained. "I suggested just apparating her, but..."

"Ron!" Hermione turned horrified eyes to him. "You _didn't_?"

Ron flushed again, and Harry chuckled. "The only thing stopping him was the thought of your response to it, Mione."

Hermione turned furious eyes to her new husband, but before she could say a word, the door opened, admitting the other Weasley men, Ginny, McGonagall, and Snape.

"The others are on their way, Harry," Charlie said.

"Bill?" Harry enquired, not seeing the eldest brother in the group.

"He said something about going to the Ministry. I'm sure he'll be right back," Charlie said. "Harry, what the hell happened?"

"In a minute, Charlie," Harry said.

At that moment, Bill apparated with a pop, and with one look on his face, Harry knew they had even bigger problems.

"What?"

"Harry, our trap has been sprung," Bill said.

"What?"

"Three ministry officials have responded to our... test." Bill looked at him meaningfully. Harry swallowed. "Two escaped, but we have the third in custody."

_Three ministry officials have been found to be spies?_ Harry thought, _What next?_

* * *

_So this time we get a shorter chapter. I just write 'em folks!_

_**Saerry Snape:** Yeah, I figured it was time to get back to the suspenseful bits..._

_**Elise:** Happy surprises are good... there might be a few coming, we'll have to see!_

_**Pdlegirl:** I like twists... I think there might be one or two left!_

_**Merlindamage:** But you LIKE it when I hit you with stuff from left field! I KNOW you do!_

_**James Milamber:** You know me too well, my friend! _

_**Larna Mandrea:** Yes, scholarship money would be a motivator... I just hate standardized testing because... well.. even the name "standardized", I guess. Ticks me off. Ah... sorry, rant over now, really! Thanks again for your lovely comments... and I'll try to remember... long chapters, good, long chapters, good..._

_**Shotgunn:** Yes, you're right... I'm playing with canon! I had a strange dream last night. You sent me some trees for safekeeping. Weird, I know. Poplars, I believe. Probably just too much caffeine... it happens._

_CQ_


	14. Chapter Fourteen: Merry Bloody Christmas

Chapter Fourteen: Merry Bloody Christmas

"When?" Harry strode through the halls of the Ministry towards his office. The place was all but deserted, as it was Christmas Day.

"Early this morning," Bill replied, striding next to him.

Ron, on the other side, breathed out angrily. "It's bloody Christmas!"

"Probably why they chose to do it today," Harry said, taking the final turn down the hallway to his offices. "Fewer people about. Where is he being held?"

"I've got Shack holding him in the meeting room next to your office," Bill replied.

Harry opened the door to Meeting Room One with a blast of magic from his hand from eight feet away and kept walking, without pause, through the doorway. Ron and Bill glanced at each other. Harry angry wasn't a good thing. Harry angry and feeling betrayed was worse.

Harry glanced around the room. There was a single man sitting at the long conference table, his head resting on his folded arms on the tabletop. Standing about the room were four aurors, in addition to Kingsley Shacklebolt, who stood behind the slumped figure.

"Shack," Harry nodded his greeting.

"Merry bloody Christmas, Harry," Kingsley said, a humorless smile on his face. "Here to open your present?"

Harry smiled tiredly at the man. Shack had a rather odd sense of humor at times.

Sitting down across from the slumped figure, he took a deep breath.

"You have one way, and only one way, of saving your neck, so I suggest you start talking," he said.

The figure stiffened, but then straightened. The man was probably in his late twenties, unremarkable except for a long, thin scar running over his chin, down his neck and beneath the collar of his robes. He had dark eyes, and dark hair, and reminded Harry strangely of Tom Riddle.

"You think I'm stupid?" he asked. "Nothing you can do to me would compare to..."

"You need to rethink that," Harry interrupted him. "And remember that there has been a reinstatement of the High Treason laws."

The younger man's eyes showed alarm for a moment. Obviously he hadn't thought of that. But then, after a moment, his eyes glazed over again.

"Do your worst," he smiled at Harry. "You can't convict me of High Treason based on what you've got. I was just... in to work early this morning. I had some things to finish up. My dedication to my work should be admired."

Harry smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile, and the younger man swallowed nervously.

"You were in a restricted area, with no clearance, during off hours, and we have evidence you were attempting to access personal information from the voters lists. You were abusing your position at the Ministry to acquire information that you have no business with. And you attacked a Ministry guard who attempted to stop you. All of this was done, I may add, while wearing Death Eater robes and mask. That, my friend, gives us a strong case for treason."

Harry picked up a file from the tabletop, opening it and reading. "Michael Rooney. Twenty eight. Employed in the office of Muggle relations for the past three years. Worked under Kilborn. Interesting. Now, working with Donald Freeling. Very verbal about your... disagreement with the appointment of Marilyn Prewitt to the office of Minister. I wonder why? Father, Ryan Rooney, Death Eater under Voldemort, as I remember it..."

"So?"

"So?" Harry smiled. "This, in addition to your father's record, gives me everything I need to seize everything your family owns. Your father died in the final battle with Voldemort, but I see you have three sisters and your mother..."

Rooney swallowed.

"I hope that your Dark Lord is in a generous mood. For their sakes. I understand that finding employment can be an issue for the families of convicted Death Eaters," Harry's eyes lowered back down to the file. "Hogwarts. Slytherin. Big surprise there..."

The man was simmering, but remained silent.

"Let's cut the crap, shall we?" Harry closed the file and slammed it down on the table. His green eyes were piercing as they stared through the man seated across from him. "The issue here is that you were caught, red handed. We know who you are, and what you've been doing, but we're also aware that you're just a junior member of the club."

Harry stood and walked to the window, looking out on the overcast winter day.

"This is the deal," he turned quickly back, catching the man's eyes, unguarded, on him. "You have two choices. You can either tell me who the other two were and where they buggered off to, and any other names you know, in exchange for leniency, or you keep your mouth shut, allow that Dark bastard to dictate to you what you can and cannot do, and I will see to it that you are tried under the High Treason laws. If you are, and you are found guilty, sentencing ceases to be an issue."

"What?"

"A conviction of High Treason carries with it an automatic sentence of death," Harry informed him.

_Got him_, Harry thought, watching the younger man's eyes widen with alarm.

But then, Harry was shocked to see them harden again.

"Fine," the young man nodded. "Do your worst."

Harry glanced at Ron, then Bill. Both nodded. They had seen his hesitation.

"Rooney..." Harry sat again. "If you make this choice, once the wheels are in motion, there will be nothing I or anyone else can do for you. Do you understand that?"

His answer was to turn cold eyes on Harry. "_You_ don't understand, do you?"

Harry looked at him, questioningly.

"I'm already dead," the younger man said simply, his eyes hard.

Harry took a deep breath. Well. That was now decided.

He stood, nodded once, then looked at Kingsley. "Shack, book him into a holding cell."

Kingsley nodded, and Harry, without looking at anyone else, turned and strode from the room.

"Harry..." Ron followed him into his office, closely followed by Bill.

"He's made his choice," Harry said, moving over the his desk. "Bill, can you make the formal charges, and see to setting up a quick trial? I want this over as quickly as possible."

"Harry..." Ron tried again.

"We can't turn him, Ron, so the next best thing is making an example of the son of a bitch," Harry said. "Now, I'm going home to my family. I'll see both of you there."

And with that, he disapparated with a pop.

"Someday, I want to know how the hell he disapparates out of a warded building," Bill said. "At least he could _pretend_ that we aren't all so bloody average next to him, couldn't he?"

"Harry doesn't _pretend_ about anything," Ron said quietly. "Least of all, anything to do with magic."

* * *

Harry and the others tried to keep up a cheerful attitude for the remainder of the day, but it was difficult. Harry had returned and brooded in his office for an hour before Ron and Bill returned, just in time for a hasty Christmas dinner before retreating to the war room where the Order was due to congregate within the hour.

Ginny retreated with the children, and then reappeared at the last minute before Harry called the meeting to order.

"Okay?" he asked her.

"David and Susan are asleep. Meg is going to bunk in with them tonight, in case they wake up and are frightened. She's up there now, reading. Maddy and Mary are in their room. Mary is going to keep an eye on the twins."

"Good," Harry nodded. "Amelia and Anna are around, too?"

"Yes," Ginny confirmed. "Amelia said she'd keep an eye on things. She was putting the boys to bed when I came down."

"Let's get this show on the road, then, huh?" he smiled.

"Harry?" Ginny looked up at him.

"What, love?"

"You're not shouldering this alone."

"I know," Harry glanced around the room. It was full of able and loyal witches and wizards. "I do know."

Ginny sat in the chair to Harry's right, and watched as Harry took a breath, then knocked on the tabletop.

"Everyone? Attention, please?"

The room quieted.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your Christmas celebrations, but I think you'll understand when you hear what I have to say."

"No apology is necessary, Harry," Neville said from the other end of the table. "We know that you wouldn't call us for no reason."

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Well, you're right, Nev. This isn't for no reason. As a matter of fact, I have two. Firstly, you need to be made aware that three spies were found in the Ministry early this morning. Apparently, they were caught trying to access voting records."

"What?" Katie Bell-Wood spoke. "What could they want with those?"

"It's assumed that they were under the impression that voter records held more... personal information than they actually do."

"So what has happened to them?" Oliver Wood asked.

"Two, unfortunately, escaped..."

"Escaped!" There were general cries of disbelief.

"They were happened upon by a single guard. Not even a fully trained auror, just a student auror who has taken on the job over the holidays for some extra money. The young guard was lucky to escape with his life, but managed to stun one of them before the other two overwhelmed him. We can only assume that the third was either considered too junior to bother taking with them, or they were too distracted to notice he wasn't with them. Aurors responded to the spell alarms and found the young guard and the Death Eater both stunned."

"The captured spy was one Michael Rooney... worked for the Department of Muggle Relations..."

There were gasps around the room.

"He is... disinclined to cooperate with us. Despite having the situation laid out for him, and the consequences he would be facing, he has chosen to not cooperate and face the charges alone."

"What charges, Harry?" Neville again spoke.

"He will be the first to stand trial under the reinstated High Treason Laws," Harry said quietly.

This time, there were no gasps of disbelief, or any sound whatsoever. The entire room was silent. They all knew what this meant.

"He has made his choice," Harry rubbed a hand across his eyes. "He'll stand trial by the end of the week. However, that is only the first order of business tonight, I'm afraid. The second order of business, and perhaps more importantly, is the fact that we may have a line on the Dark Lord's base of operations."

Again, gasps about the room.

"As some of you know, I took my family today to visit with my cousin and his family," Harry ignored the response that this got. "While there, it came to our attention that my cousin's son, who attends a muggle boarding school, had seen Death Eaters on the grounds of his school."

"But, Harry! A child..." Snape spoke out.

"Hold up, Sev..." Harry continued. "Upon further questioning, it was discovered that, not only is the headmaster one Wilfred Nott..."

Gasps again.

"...but the chemistry teacher is rumored, amongst the students, to be an evil witch," Harry couldn't help but smile. "Who brews potions in the cellars."

"Harry..." Snape began.

"Her name is Goyle. Millicent Goyle."

While the response of others in the room ranged from confusion to surprise, Severus Snape burst out laughing.

"Millicent Goyle?"

"Gregory Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode were both in our years, Sev. Many of us knew them, even then, to be followers of both Malfoy and the Dark arts."

"Yes, Harry, I'm sure you're right," Severus said, his amusement still clear.

"It's too much coincidence that the headmaster of the school she's teaching at is named Nott, and that Theodore Nott's family is from the area..."

"Which is...?" began Neville.

"Potter," Severus Snape looked directly at him, while ignoring Neville. "I can see the correlation. However, Millicent Bulstrode teaching chemistry? The girl couldn't mix a milk shake! She failed Potions with even more regularity than Longbottom... and that is saying something. The girl blew up the potions lab once _just by walking into it_. I daresay she had some talent, but I assure you, it wasn't in potions, or muggle chemistry, either."

"I would imagine, Sev, that muggle schools have rather less stringent requirements than we would have at Hogwarts."

"Certainly," Snape agreed. "But the thought of Millicent Bulstrode... it boggles the mind."

"Harry?" Neville tried again. "Where is it?"

Harry turned to the group. "In the Cotswolds. About a fifteen minute walk from a village called Chipping Campden."

"And what are we going to do about this?" asked Lee Jordan. "We can hardly walk up to the school, knock on the door and say, 'Hello, are you harboring any Death Eaters here?', now can we?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "No, Lee, we can't. However, we can investigate the area, make some observations, and tighten our magic wards around there. We can also evacuate any wizard families, should the need arise."

"And if the wizarding families that we evacuate are in league with Nott and the others?" Hermione asked.

Harry swallowed. He hadn't thought of that. "Point taken, Mione. Perhaps the best action would be observation and stationing aurors in and around the area. Until something happens, there is little we can do. However, if anyone sees Malfoy in the area, that will change things, remarkably. Tonks, I want a list of the wizarding families in the area, say, within twenty miles..."

"Harry, what about your cousin and his family?" Katie asked. "With their connections to you..."

"No one really knows that we have anything to do with each other. It's common knowledge that I wasn't happy there, and left as soon as I could, and that relations between us were stilted, at best. If anyone even remembers his name, I'd be surprised."

"But..."

"Steps are being taken to protect them, Katie. Thank you for asking," Harry nodded. "Now, going forward, we need people on the ground in Gloucestershire..."

It was late when Harry finally climbed the stairs, heading to bed. Ginny had gone up hours before, and he was glad. She tired so very easily when she was pregnant.

It was nearly two when he fell into bed beside her, and barely had time to register her curling in next to him before he slept. It certainly didn't feel like morning when he was shaken awake.

Which was because it wasn't. Harry looked blearily up at Ron, leaning over the bed, and Bill and Charlie standing by the door, then at the clock on the bedside table. Four thirty.

"What?" He asked, sitting up and reaching for his clothes.

"Harry..." Ron's eyes were sad. "There's been another attack... you need to come."

"Where?" Harry asked, pulling on his jeans.

"Surrey."

* * *

_Ah.... I must say, my muse has been playing with me. I think I know the direction, then -- WHAM! Things change._

_**Shotgunn: **In truth, I'm not sure about the length of this story. I know that **I** have about twenty chapters total planned, but I only had fifteen planned for HPPT... so, you see my dilemma. We'll see, I guess. As for the dreaming part... strange, I know. I've been having very odd dreams lately. Must be the caffeine!_

_**Pdlegirl:** The spies are... well, I'm not going to say they're immaterial, but it's more the fact of them and what Harry does about it. Remember, he's thinking he's going to die this time, and he's also trying to set up things so that people can live without daily fear..._

_**Larna Mandrea:** That's so sweet! You have no idea of the boost that gives me to hear that my story has drawn you in like that! Thank you!_

_**Merlindamage: **Marion is special... Malcolm needed someone like that, someone who cares for him to that degree, to change him from the spoiled little shite he was into the man he became. It was the only way that Harry would have anything to do with him, and Harry needed to put his past to rest._

_**SaerrySnape:** You make me laugh. Is it possible to drown in suspense? We'll see, I guess, because things seem to be heating up a bit..._

_**Elise:** Quick updates are my style. When I get writing, I can't stop – then I'll have a dry spot for a couple of days, and you won't hear from me for a week._

_**CrazyPsychoBananaHead:** Twists are my specialty!_

_**GiGiFanfic:** The whole situation makes me rather sick, too, Gigi, but unfortunately, it is the world we're living in. I comfort myself with the old proverb, "And this too shall pass", but I admit, it doesn't always work. When I began this story, with Power of Truth, I wanted to tell the story as though it was real, in OUR world... and that meant including current events. Obviously, if I was going to make it believable as something that was happening in our world, it had to be affected by our world. The war right now is a very big part of what is going on – and I couldn't ignore it. Also, the apparent disappearance of bin Laden intrigues me, and the shuffling of power and different factions ponying up to get their part of the action reminded me so much of JKR's Death Eaters, I had to draw the correlation. I try to not make the current situation in our world the MAIN idea in this story, but it is a big part of it. Call it hope. If the magical world DID exist, perhaps it would be our salvation, without our even knowing._

_CQ_


	15. Chapter Fifteen: Tough Decisions

Chapter Fifteen: Tough Decisions

Harry walked down the main street. The sidewalks were gone, and the rubble was smoking. Ron and Bill walked on either side of him. Ginny and Hermione walked behind, tears in their eyes as they looked around at what had been a small English village. The village that Harry had grown up in.

"Hey! You lot! You can't be here! It's too dangerous, there's been a gas explosion, you know!"

Harry looked at the uniformed muggle police officer who approached them.

"I have family here," Harry said.

"Not anymore you don', lad..." the man said, stopping three feet away. There was pity in his eyes. "Look, I'm sure the authorities will be in touch..."

"I am the authorities..." Harry said quietly, waving his hand before the man, then moving on past him. The police officer gave his head a shake, looked around and, without appearing to even see them, and moved on.

"Harry..." Ginny moved up next to him, taking his hand. "Harry, there is nothing left..."

"The house is up this street, Gin..." Harry continued on, gripping her hand tightly.

"Harry..."

"I need to see, Ginny," he looked down at her, the tortured look in his eyes convincing her that she would never change his mind. "I need to see."

"Okay, Harry," she agreed quietly, stepping carefully through the debris and following him. The others came behind.

Turning up the street where Malcolm and Marion's house was once located, Hermione gasped.

"Dear Merlin!"

The street was razed. There wasn't a house left standing, and not a sign of life anywhere.

Harry continued up the street, and came to pause in front of a pile of red brick. There was a high-pitched metallic squeal coming from under the pile... somewhere.

"What _is_ that?" Ron said, his eyes searching the pile for the source of the noise.

"Fire detector..." Hermione said quietly. "A muggle device... they're battery operated.... it will do that until the battery dies."

A moment later, it did just that, the sound warbling out to nothingness. It gave them all a queer feeling... as though they'd been witness to death.

Which, they were, really. The death of a village and all in it.

Harry took a deep breath, still staring at the pile of rubble that had been his childhood home, and the home of his last remaining blood family. Malcolm and Marion were more than likely dead. Unless they hadn't been home at the time of the attack, which coming at three in the morning seemed unlikely.

No. They were dead. Harry knew this with everything in him. Every instinct he had told him that the Death Eaters razed the entire village with one purpose in mind.

To strike a blow at Harry.

This, too, would be on his conscience. It was one more reason...

"Malfoy," Harry spat in an undertone. "I swear to Merlin, you've done your _last_!"

* * *

Back at Potter Manor, Bill was quickly on the phone with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was at the scene in Surrey with a team of aurors. They were trying to piece together what had happened while trying to keep out of sight of the muggle authorities. Harry had placed a call to the muggle police station in the next village, and had inquired after his cousin. As expected, the police had told him that no survivors had been found as of yet, but that they would keep his name on record as the Rivers' family's next of kin.

Harry then paced in his office, from the window to the desk to the bookshelves and back. For over an hour, he paced, getting angrier and angrier as he did so. By the time Ron opened the door just before lunch, Harry had worked up a good head of steam.

"I can't do this anymore, Ron." Harry said firmly. "Something has to be done, and it's my job to do it. This is going to end."

"Harry..."

"Bloody Malfoy..." Harry said. "I should have killed the little bastard the night of the final battle... I would have, too..."

"And lived with that for the rest of your life? Harry, come on..."

"What would be better, Ron? Living with the fact of killing off Malfoy, or living with the death of every person, every _child_, he's killed since? They'd all be alive if I had..."

"Not necessarily, Harry. You know it was only a matter of time. Malfoy isn't the only Dark Wizard in the world."

"No," Harry agreed. "But he's one I could have done something about."

"So?" Ron said, flopping down on the sofa and settling in for a long discussion. He knew Harry in these moods, and not much talking would get done, but it would take hours for Harry to come to any conclusions, and when he did, Ron would be there to listen.

Harry, however, surprised him.

"I'm going to call for the reinstatement of auror raids on suspected Dark arts families. It's got to stop, and the only way is to stop them before they attack. Attack first."

Ron looked at him speculatively. This didn't sound like the Harry of a few weeks ago.

"I doubt you'll get them all that way," Ron said quietly.

"I may not," Harry said, his voice firm, his eyes hard. "But I'll take a few of the bastards out before I go."

Ron sucked in a breath as he watched his friend exit the room. Exactly what the hell did Harry mean by that?

* * *

Ginny walked down the hallway on her way to the twins' room to put away some laundry, only to pause. What was that noise? It sounded like...

Suddenly sure of what she heard, she rushed through Hermione and Ron's room into their ensuite. There, crouched in front of the toilet, was Hermione.

She was retching and grasping the sides of the bowl, and Ginny moved to her, dropping the laundry she was carrying and pulling the other woman's hair gently back from her face.

"Mione?"

"Ginny..." Mione gasped through her tears. "Don't tell Ron..."

"Of course not, love," Ginny stroked her clammy forehead before straightening and turned on the cold water tap.

"He's so worried about Harry, and so am I, but he won't let me go when they need me to, if he knows..."

"Knows what, Mione...?"

"Oh, Ginny... I have a bad feeling about this," Hermione cried as Ginny handed her a dampened cloth.

"Mione...?"

"It's going to get so much worse..."

"I know," Ginny sighed. "But making yourself sick...that's not going to help."

"I can't help it. After what we saw this morning..."

"I know."

"No, you don't," Mione said. "I've been there, Gin. I've been in war zones where entire villages were wiped out, like we saw this morning. I've seen that before.... it's going to get worse. Much, much worse."

Ginny sighed. "I think you ought to lie down for a while. Ron will freak if he finds out you've been ill..."

"He'll freak if he finds out I've been napping in the middle of the day," Hermione got to her feet, swaying slightly with dizziness before grasping the edge of the sink. "He'll be convinced I'm dying."

"Oh, Mione..." Ginny's eyes filled with tears. "I don't think anyone realized before just how much you've seen... I'm sorry."

"It's not just that, Gin," she said softly. "Come on, Harry and Ron need us."

* * *

Bill came in later that day with the news that another ministry official had been caught in "suspicious circumstances" at the Ministry. Apparently, he had been trying to get several non-ministry people in through the security floo, and failed. This time, it was a minor official from the Magical Elections office.

Harry, once again pacing in his office, had skipped dinner. Ginny knocked on the door and then entered without waiting for him to acknowledge her. It was time something was done.

"Ginny..."

"You need to eat, Harry."

"I can't," Harry said. "I have to... I have to talk to David and Susan, and I might have to go into the Ministry..."

"And starving yourself isn't going to do anyone any good, Harry Potter," she said firmly, placing the tray on his desk and guiding him over to sit down.

Immediately, he was back on his feet and moving around the desk, pacing again.

"I... did I make a mistake...?"

"No, Harry."

"Two in the last twenty four hours, Gin! Ministry officials!"

"Harry..."

"Bloody hell, my _own people_, Ginny!"

"Not your people, Harry."

He turned confused, angry eyes towards her.

"These people, these dark wizards, they've never been _your_ people, Harry. You've always fought for the Light. Anyone against that isn't _your_ people, and never has been, no matter which _office_ they hold."

"Gavin Pierce, Ginny. He's been.... he's been with the Ministry since before the Final Battle with Voldemort. He was... he knew Dumbledore..."

"I'm beginning to believe that Dumbledore mightn't have had the best judgment, Harry." Ginny said dryly. "I mean, really, he did have a way of trusting those who were particularly untrustworthy, didn't he? Look at Langley Griffin... even Draco. He never would believe anything negative about Draco."

"Oh, he believed it, Gin," Harry said, sighing. "He just couldn't do anything about it. I, however, can."

"How so?" Ginny asked gently.

"I can deal with Draco, and his filthy little minions. He's got nothing on Voldemort... or even Mahood. Draco is small potatoes. The problem is that we don't know who his followers are..."

"So what do we do about that?" Ginny asked.

Harry looked at her for a moment, knowing she wasn't going to like his answer.

"We reinstate the raiding policy on the homes of those suspected to have connections to the Dark arts."

"What?" she looked at him, shocked.

"You heard me, Gin. It's the only way."

"Harry... you...."

"Ginny, can you think of any other way to discourage them from following him, other than using their fear of what they might lose personally from it?"

Ginny sighed. "No."

"Right then. Historically, we've learned that the only way to hit them so they take notice is to take their _things_. So, we bring back the raiding policy. If it even discourages one, and that one then doesn't have the opportunity to commit one murder, then it will be worth it, right?"

"Right," Ginny agreed. She agreed with him, she really did. But she was also fully aware of what this was going to cost Harry personally. And that, she was _not_ looking forward to.

* * *

"You have been convicted of the crime of High Treason," Harry didn't take his eyes from the stoney face of the young wizard standing before him. "It pains me to think of your life being wasted... I find it very difficult to pass sentence on you for this crime, but I have to say that you committed it knowing the consequences. It is wizarding law that anyone who commits High Treason shall be executed for their crime. I... I do not wish to pass this sentence. The reality of it is a terrible thing, but it is our law.

"Michael Vincent Rooney," Harry continued. "You are hereby sentenced to death, to be carried out within the next three days. Dismissed."

Harry was shaking as he made his way from the courtroom back to his office. Ramona saw his white face as he passed her, and quietly followed him in.

"Minister?" she said quietly. "Harry?"

"I'm okay, Ramona," Harry said from the darkened room. The blinds were all pulled, and he had cast some sort of darkening charm. He was slumped in the corner of the sofa.

Ramona came to stand in front of him. "Can I get you anything? Tea?"

"No. Thank you," he said quietly. "I've just had to do one of the hardest... I'm sorry. I'll be fine."

"If you need anything..."

"I'll call. Thank you, Ramona."

Ramona left the room, pulling the door closed behind her. After a moment's hesitation, she moved to her desk and picked up the phone.

* * *

Ginny was there in minutes. She had grabbed her wand, but nothing else, and had flooed directly to the main Ministry floo and found the main hall of the Ministry of Magic absolutely jam-packed with reporters. Knowing full well why they were there, she pulled the hood of her cloak up and made her way through the crowd towards Harry's offices.

She found Ramona holding back a group of reporters who were insisting on speaking to Harry to get his comments on his controversial sentence. Smiling, Ginny cast a sonorus charm on the pretty secretary and suddenly the young woman's voice filled the outer office.

"I have told you that the Minister isn't accepting visitors or giving interviews at the moment. He will be making a statement to the press _later_, but until then, you are wasting your time."

This didn't satisfy the reporters, who turned on Ginny as she pulled down her hood, revealing her identity.

"Go in, go in!" Ramona said. "I'll handle this lot. You're needed inside."

"Thank you, Ramona," Ginny said, nodding to the girl. "Thank you for calling me."

Ramona nodded and Ginny proceeded into the office, finding herself in blackness as soon as she shut the door behind her.

"Harry?"

Silence.

"Harry, I know you're here. Ramona called me."

Still silence. Ginny shook her head and lifted her wand.

"_Lumos,_" she said, and suddenly the room was lighted by the soft glow coming from the end of her wand.

"Ginny," Harry said quietly from the couch. "Please put it out."

"Why? So I can trip on my way over to you? I don't think so, Mr Potter."

Harry was silent. He didn't look up from where he was slouched on the sofa.

"Harry," Ginny sat down beside him, looking at him despite the fact that he couldn't meet her eyes. "Look at me."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because," he said softly. "Because I can't bear to see the disgust in your eyes."

"Why would I be disgusted?"

"Ginny, I ordered a man's death today. "

Ginny nodded. "I can imagine that must be difficult to bear," she said softly. "But I still don't understand why you would think I would be disgusted with you."

Harry turned and looked at her, his eyes full of pain. "How can you possibly love me, after this?"

Ginny smiled, "Because you're you. I don't look at what you've done and judge it, Harry, I look at the reasons you feel compelled to do what needed to be done. I know you don't take any pleasure from it, and I know that if you did, you wouldn't be the man I loved. I agree with you. This can't be easy, and there are few out there, I think, who would be equal to doing what must be done. But you said it yourself, ours was a safer world when these laws were enforced... and our world needs to stop living in fear."

"I ordered the death of a twenty eight year old wizard today!"

"Yes," she smiled sadly. "There are few wizards who could have done what you've had to do, Harry. Your strength amazes me."

"I'm not _strong_, Ginny!" he stood and began to pace. "I'm bloody disgusted with myself! With this... this world that requires this of me... Michael Rooney is _twenty eight_. Do you understand that? He entered Hogwarts the year that Meg was born. He's a _child_."

"No, Harry. He's a Dark Wizard, from a Dark Wizarding family, and a follower of the Dark Lord."

"He's still..."

"Harry, have you read the report from the young guard? The one who stunned him?"

"I... yes," he admitted, clearly knowing full well where she was going with this.

"Then you read the part about what Rooney was in the process of doing when the guard hit him with that stunner?"

"Yes," Harry admitted tiredly, sitting back down next to her.

"Harry," Ginny placed her hands on his arm. "He was casting the death spell at that guard. It was only because of the young man's good reflexes that he managed to dodge it, and throw the stunner at him. Or he would be dead."

"Yes."

"If he had managed to kill the guard, would you feel differently?"

"I... I don't know, Gin," Harry held his head in his hands.

"Do you believe that Draco deserves to die for what he did during the last battle?"

"Yes," Harry agreed after a moment.

"Then tell me, why this Death Eater deserves to live, and Draco deserves to die... when their crimes are, essentially, the same?"

"Because," Harry looked at her. "Rooney isn't guilty of anything that I haven't done, Gin. I've done a lot worse. He's never killed anyone. I have. He's never..."

"Harry, you've done what you had to, knowing the consequences. So did he."

"I'm not so sure that he did. That he realized..."

"Harry, he's a Death Eater. Do you think he would have cared?"

Harry was silent.

"To me, there were two reasons to bring back the death penalty and the High Treason Laws. The first was to dissuade others from following the Dark by showing them that there were dire consequences to hurting innocents. The second was to remove the danger from our society. Draco wouldn't be alive to be doing this, to be causing this, if we had had these laws in place twenty years ago."

"Agreed," Harry said after a moment.

"So, if those laws had been in place, many people, innocents, would still be alive who are now dead at his hand, right?"

"Yes."

"If these laws had been in place, and Draco had been convicted of breaking them, would he have deserved the sentence?"

"Absolutely," Harry agreed.

"So why should it be different for Rooney?"

"He's so young, Gin..."

"Draco was nineteen when he caused Dumbledore's death, when he used the Impervious on Hermione. Nineteen, Harry."

"But so was I," Harry said softly.

* * *

_Loved all the reviews this time.... keep them coming!_

_**Shotgunn:** The name Rooney just came to me... Although Wayne Rooney (who plays for Man U and the English national team, is an AMAZING player! Harry needed to put his past to rest, which was the main reason behind Malcolm's appearance in the story, I think, but – hey – you never know, do you?_

_**Katherine Rose**: Blame my muse, and pray she doesn't hit a dry spell – I certainly am, as I'm pretty sure I'd be hunted down, drawn and quartered..._

_**Gorman99:** It's strange... I go through these spells where the story just comes... thanks for the kind words!_

_**James Milamber:** I've figured it out. You're a night owl, and Milamber and Jonas are morning people...er... muses... so that's why we've been waiting so bloody long for an update on HPMM, right? Either way, thanks for your sweetness, sweetness._

_**Pdlegirl:** Thanks! Snape is one of my favorite characters to write, alongside the Harry/Ron banter. I like cliffies, also, but I know that the key to a good cliffie is a quick update (I believe in curses, and I don't want to risk it!) -- happily, my muse seems to be cooperating this week..._

_**Gigifanfic:** Thanks, Gigi! Hope you enjoy this one!_

_**Merlindamage:** Quick enough? Sorry – I think I missed a day...._

_**Elise:** Potter Manor is getting rather full, I think! _

_**Whimsical Firefly:** I'll check out that book, thanks! Any comments are welcome, you know that – I appreciate all of them, even the critical ones!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** Wow – I have superpowers! I can make math class bearable – I really wish I'd had that when I was in school, let me tell you. I had one math teacher who literally put us to sleep every day (think Professor Binns... but older and more boring) and the next year I had a math teacher who smoked a joint before every class and his room smelled REALLY weird... wasn't until about three years out of school that I figured it out – it was incense to cover the rather more recognizable scent..._

_**Saerry Snape:** Yes – I can see how that can happen. Rather an interesting way to die, I would imagine. So much better than toddling off in your sleep, for instance..._

_CQ_


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Looking In

Chapter Sixteen: Looking in

Severus Snape was fifty eight years old. He had lived an odd life, a life seemingly full of extremes. Topping that list of extremes was the fact that he had been a Death Eater, before turning and becoming a spy for the Order.

Severus was fully aware that acquisition of his head, preferably on a silver platter, had been the crowning achievement yearned for by many young converts to the Dark Arts. The past twenty years of his life had been spent avoiding such confrontations with over zealous young wizards who were eager to prove themselves. He had dispatched more than one of them, and had no regrets over it. It had, after all, been purely in self-defence.

He was seated in his rather gloomy drawing room in his private quarters at Hogwarts, sipping his morning coffee, when his morning issue of the Daily Prophet was delivered. The headline was no surprise to him. As a member of the Order, and a close acquaintance of the Potter and Weasley families (Severus refused to consider himself _friends_ with anyone, as _friends_ tended to get one killed), he was fully aware of what Harry had had to do the previous day.

Severus felt a small ache in the region of his heart. Strange.

He read the article, and the ache worsened. Stranger still. It was now moving into his throat. He felt a strange urgency, to go to Potter Manor.

Severus took a deep breath and managed to get control of himself. After all, Harry had done what he had done based on logical thinking and astute observation. The reinstatement of the High Treason laws should have the desired result, especially after an example or two was made. Death Eaters were not always known for their ability to pick up on things right away, so it might take a few examples to convince them. As a matter of fact, the majority of them were rather thick.

It was twenty minutes before Severus finally admitted that the feelings in his heart and throat, not to mention the _need_ to go to Potter Manor, were an emotional reaction. Harry had done something the day before which must have been tiresomely difficult, Harry being who Harry was. Severus, of course, would not have had a problem dealing out the sentence, but knowing Harry as he did, he was certain that the younger wizard would be having a difficult day today.

And he felt the need to be there for him.

Strange.

He made himself sit down in his favorite shabby high-backed armchair before the fire. He fussed with a book. He fussed with the paper. He finally managed to distract himself by thinking of the past.

Forty years ago, he had been an impetuous, angry young wizard. He was still often angry, but the impetuousity had been torn from him after a few weeks in the service of Voldemort. That had been as long as it took for him to realize that his emotional overreaction had led him down a very, very dangerous path. Even so, he had managed to survive, keeping himself believing that he had chosen the appropriate route.

Until he had heard of Harry's birth. And of Voldemort's plans.

He couldn't allow that to happen to Lily. No, not Lily.

So he had approached the 'enemy'. Dumbledore. The old man had been old then. Twenty years later, at his death, he'd been ancient.

His service to the Order of the Phoenix had been secretive. At first, only Dumbledore had known who their spy in Voldemort's ranks was. Then, Lily had seen him one day. She had approached him, had cried on his shoulder, begged him to leave the Dark, that she and James would help him... and he had told her what he was doing.

Perhaps it had been a mistake. Had he coldly pushed her away, perhaps things would have turned out differently. But he hadn't. He and Lily had been childhood friends. For him, it had been much more. It had been pure chance that she had met James... the fact that he had been a schoolmate of Severus' at Hogwarts had been completely coincidental.

And her falling in love with the handsome Gryffindor had wrenched out the last piece of Severus' heart that could have saved him at eighteen.

The day he heard of her child, though, the day that he heard of what Voldemort planned for that child... for Lily... something had awoken inside him. Perhaps it was that moment that he became a man. Until then, he had certainly not been acting like one.

The day after Lily and James had died, he had sworn retribution against Voldemort, and had shown up at an Order meeting to expose himself to the rest of the Order. Dumbledore had not been happy about it, but Severus had known that he must declare himself.

And then, several years later, Harry had shown up at the school. The cause of Lily's death, he had thought. The prophecy spoke of her _child_. If that child hadn't existed, Lily would still be alive. And he looked so much like his father had years before. Severus couldn't help himself. He was cold and angry towards the only person available to take out his anger on. Harry.

It wasn't until the final battle, when Severus watched Harry duel with Voldemort, and saw that the young man was willing to give his life for the cause which had consumed Severus', that he realized how truly wrong he had been. In the years since, he had tried, desperately sometimes, to make up for the years of anger and pain he had caused this boy. Since the twins had been born, Severus thought he had come to occupy some small place in their lives. And he could only be thankful.

The moment he had looked into the deep green eyes of Harry's daughter, and seen Lily, he had been lost once again. The child looked so much like her grandmother, it was eerie. As she grew, Severus could see more and more of Lily in her, and nothing of James. It was strange, but he felt deeply protective of the child in a way that he had never felt towards Lily. He had been protective of her, yes. But not like this. This child... Severus sometimes felt he couldn't feel more like her grandfather if he _was_.

And Harry and Ginny allowed it.

Again, Severus felt deeply grateful. He had built a solitary life, yet had been given the option, in the final stages of it, to have that which he had never dreamt he would have. A family.

He swore daily that he would not fail Harry's children as he had failed Lily. He would not punish himself, or them, for their honest choices. This was a lesson hard learned, but one that Severus intended to live by for the rest of his life.

After an hour of fighting the feeling of urgency, Severus stood and headed out the door. Surely Minerva wouldn't mind if he used her floo?

* * *

"So, Potter, feeling sorry for yourself?" Snape strode into Harry's study to find the younger wizard slumped in the corner of the leather sofa, eyes closed.

"What the hell do you want, Sev?" Harry said in a monotone.

"To drag you kicking and screaming out of that well of self-pity you appear to be intent on launching yourself into head first."

"Give up now," was Harry's flip comment.

"Alternatively, I'd take a glass of that muggle brandy I know you favour," Snape dropped into the chair across from Harry and stared intently at him. After a moment, Harry opened his left eye and looked at his old potions master.

"Pour me one, too," he said, closing it again.

"Drowning your sorrows in drink probably isn't the answer, either, Potter." Sev stood and moved to the drinks cabinet beside Harry's desk. Pouring them each a measure of the very expensive brandy, he returned to the fire.

"No? Funny, I've never noticed that it didn't work wonders," Harry said sarcastically, holding out his hand to take the drink that Sev offered without opening his eyes.

_How the hell does he do that?_ Severus thought.

"When I was fourteen, Harry..."

Harry groaned. "Please, Sev, not a 'when I was' story... I really can't take it right now."

"When I was fourteen, there was a man in our village... now, little did the local muggles know, but he was a wizard. My father knew, of course, but my father could be relied on for one thing and one thing only: to never extend a helping hand to _anyone_. The more they needed it, the less likely he was to offer it."

"Now, one day, the local constabulary picked up this gentleman for... well, they called it public intoxication, and they rather thought it was, I suppose. In fact, it was a rather odd sheilding spell he'd been working on that went horribly wrong..."

"Does this story have a point, Sev?" Harry sat up, both eyes open, and glared at Severus.

"Ah, yes. Achieved," Severus lifted his drink to his lips.

"Excuse me?"

"The point, Harry," he said, after swallowing and taking a rather long look at the younger man. "Was to tell a story so mundane that you would feel compelled to sit up and stop feeling sorry for yourself simply to get out of having to listen to it. Therefore, I have achieved my goal."

"Sev, why are you here?" Harry sighed.

"Because you're sitting alone in a darkened room, scaring away those who love you, and feeling quite sorry for yourself."

"And you would know this, how?" Harry thought of Ron or Bill talking to Snape about him and his mood, and saw red.

"Because, Harry, one recognizes it in others when they are overly familiar with the signs in themselves."

"What?"

"I've spent enough time doing the very thing that you are intent on doing. It's a waste. Now, tell me, why are you sitting alone when you have a pretty wife, wonderful children, and a huge family of loving people who adore you on the other side of that very closed door?"

Harry was, in a word, surprised. He'd never heard Snape give the tiniest amount of credit to the benefits of positive emotion, much less the value of love and family.

"Do you know what I had to do yesterday, Sev?" he asked quietly.

"I heard," Snape confirmed.

"I had to go against everything that I feel is right, to do something that I know will save lives in the long run. I ordered the death of a wizard."

"Ah, the death of an innocent, then?" Sev commented, swirling the amber liquid in his glass at eye level, watching as it caught the light. There was something decadent about drinking forty year old brandy at ten o'clock in the morning. There hadn't been a lot of decadence in Snape's life. He rather liked it.

"An _innocent_?" Harry looked at him incredulously. "Hardly, Sev. The man was a Death Eater, tried to kill a Ministry guard, was intent on getting information on other wizarding families with the intent of victimizing them... killing them, but not before terrorizing and torturing their children..."

"Ah," Severus nodded. "I'm sorry, Harry, but why does it bother you to order the sentencing of one such as you have described if it didn't bother you to dispatch... say... Philip Mahood?"

Harry's eyes widened. He sat back against the back of the sofa, and then took a sip from his glass. Taking a breath, he looked into his glass at the remaining liquid, then downed it quickly.

"Now that, Potter, is sacreligeous," Severus shook his head disapprovingly. "Brandy of that quality should be treated with more respect."

"Thank you, Sev," Harry stood. "You're right."

"Quite often, actually," Severus said. "The trick is in getting others to recognize it."

"I've... I've not looked at this situation like that," Harry admitted, pacing. "Ginny said that I was too focused on his age..."

"Intelligent witch you married," Sev nodded again.

"Yes," Harry continued to pace. "But it's not so much that as... the injustice of my having to make yet another decision about the right of someone to live or die..."

"As you did for our friend Mahood."

Harry snorted at the 'friend' statement. "But I... I didn't _know_ Mahood. I never saw fear in him, as I did in Rooney."

"Do you really think it was fear of _you_?" Snape asked.

"Who else?" Harry paused, looking at the older man. "I was deciding his fate. I gave him options, but..."

"Harry, are you sure it was fear of _you_ and his fate at the hands of the Ministry, or could it have been fear of _failing_ his Dark Lord?"

Harry looked contemplatively at Snape for a moment.

"I never thought of that."

"Apparently."

"Were you ever afraid, Sev? When you were serving the Dark Lord, but acting as a spy for the Order?"

Severus smiled ruefully, took a drink, then looked up at Harry. "Frequently."

"Did you ever think of..."

"My possible death? Of course," he nodded. "It's something that a Death Eater swears to embrace rather than fail his master, Harry."

Harry sat down again, looking at the older man.

"You feared failure more than death?"

"Absolutely," Snape nodded. "Failure meant weakness, and the exposure of personal weakness is a blow to the pride. To a Death Eater, Harry, nothing is more important than their personal pride, and their service to the Dark."

Harry considered this for a moment.

"So, you think that Rooney..."

"I think nothing," Severus said. "I know what the consequences would have been for Rooney. What he would have known the consequences to be. Besides the humiliation of being caught by an untrained auror's stunning spell, he would have had to endure the ridicule of the others because of his failure to achieve his mission for the Dark Lord. It would have very little to do with any fear of what the Dark Lord would do to him, because anything he would have to endure would be minor beside his _failure_. He might as well be dead, for he would be dead within the ranks... less than dead to himself."

_You don't understand, I'm already dead._

Harry remembered the younger wizard's words, and sighed. How could he beat a world he could barely understand?

"Thank you, Sev," Harry said quietly. "Thank you for helping me to understand..."

"Harry!" the door to his study banged open, Ron standing in the doorway, his eyes wild and his face flushed. He'd been running.

"Ron, what on earth...?" Harry and Snape both stood.

"Harry, you've got to come..." Ron panted.

Ginny and Hermione flew through the door, obviously having followed Ron through the house. Charlie was right behind them.

"Ron?" Hermione ran to him, putting her arm around his heaving back. "Ron, what is it?"

"Harry..." Ron took a deep breath. "You need to come. We've found Malfoy... and Harry, he's dead!"

* * *

_Mwahaahahahaha!!! I hope you like it folks, because it's all you're getting for a few days. Not only has my muse decided she's upset with me (long story) but I think I'm going away for the weekend. I'll try and have an update for you come Tuesday of next week – but this will have to hold you until then!_

_Love you all – and REVIEW!_

_CQ_

_**Merlindamage:** Harry's living in dark times, and he's struggling with his role, I think. Or at least how he's handling his role. As for Hermione... the prophecy only ever said she would die at "his" side... _

_**Elise:** Don't know where the story's going? Join the club!!! I have NO idea at times... my muse is in full control!_

_**Pdlegirl:** Aww! You say that so nicely! It's wonderful to know that I'm writing this in such a way that it's allowing my readers to feel what I think the characters are feeling... that's such an important part of fiction, I think, and the reason why so much of it leaves me flat sometimes..._

_**James Milamber:** Oh, geez, sorry! Okay, folks, listen up! James Milamber is a right git! He's arrogant, rude, and obnoxious, and that's on his GOOD days... Better, sweetie??_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Rough day? Sounds like it! So, what is this about moving to Canada? Details, sweetie, DETAILS!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** I love that you love my story! I adore your reviews! And speaking of my muse... she's rather confused at the moment, but I know full well it's because I want her to go in one direction, and she's DEFINITELY pulling in another, completely unsuitable direction... one of us will break soon, I'm sure._

_CQ_


	17. Chapter Seventeen: Changing Gears

Chapter Seventeen: Changing Gears

"Where?" Harry stared into the fire.

"About three miles from the school. Aurors came across him while doing a security sweep. They were looking for Death Eaters, but..." Ron shrugged. "We didn't expect this."

"They're sure it's him?" Harry asked, still not looking at Ron.

"Yes," Ron nodded. "Bill did an identification of his magical signature. It's him, Harry."

"Well, then," Harry turned towards Ron, meeting his eyes, a firm set to his shoulders. "Let's go."

The wooded area they apparated in was teeming with aurors. Harry glanced around, recognizing a few of them. It was obvious that most of them recognized him, as several greeted him, and the rest cast glances in his direction.

"Harry!" Kingsley shouted. "Over here!"

Harry and Ron made their way over to where Kingsley and Bill were squatting next to a shallow pit. Dead leaves covered the majority of it, but it was obvious what lay in the depression was a body. A body with white-blond hair.

"Is that...?" Harry glanced at Bill.

"Draco Malfoy," Bill confirmed, watching his brother in law closely. He was unsure how Harry would deal with this death.

"How long?" Harry asked quietly. It was obvious from the state of the body that it had been there for some time.

"I'd say... a year? At least," Kingsley replied. "Probably longer, but we won't be able to tell until..."

"Suicide?" Harry asked shortly.

"Nope," Shack pointed to burn marks on the clothing that was exposed. "Several separate wands, I think..."

"Shack?" Harry looked at him, his question obvious. Kingsley returned his level look and sighed.

"Harry... if I had to make an educated guess, and until it's thoroughly checked out, that is _all_ it is... I'd say that he was used as target practice, back when Mahood said he'd taught him a lesson."

Harry was silent for a moment, then took a very deep breath.

"Then who the hell have we been dealing with?"

* * *

An emergency meeting of the Order was called that night. Harry sat silently at the head of the long table, listening to the others.

"I think it's obvious," said Charlie. "We need to go in and clear them out. We know the school is the base of operations..."

"If we go into a school, muggles are going to end up dead, Charlie," Hermione said quietly.

"Muggles are already ending up dead, Mione," Charlie turned to his new sister in law. "This way, we might at least be able to control the situation."

"Muggle _children_," Hermione's eyes snapped.

"Do you mean to tell us that children don't die in muggle wars, Hermione?" Snape asked. "It's a fact of war. An unfortunate fact, but a fact nonetheless."

"I cannot condone..." Hermione stood angrily.

"Mione," Harry spoke. "Relax."

Hermione took a breath, looked at Harry and then sat down again next to Ron, who placed a hand on her back.

"Do we know, _for sure_, that the school is the site we're looking for?" Harry asked.

"There are wards to keep the Ministry sensors from seeing what's going on..." Kingsley said. "Telling us that there is _something_ going on there. We found Malfoy's body three miles away, and there are no other indications of magical activity within twenty miles.

"In addition," he continued, "we've seen three suspected Death Eaters in the area. Our aurors have gone unobserved."

"You're sure?" Harry asked.

Kingsley just shot him a look.

"Okay," Harry nodded. "So, unless they know that we've found Draco, they have no idea we're even focussed on that area?"

"Not that we can tell," Kingsley confirmed.

Harry stood and began to pace. "The school is due to go back in on the sixth..."

"Four days," Remus said.

"So whatever we do," Harry turned back to the group, "needs to be done before then."

"There are still children..." Hermione began.

"I know, Mione," Harry said quietly, but firmly. "But this is... If they find out we know, imagine what they might do with a schoolful of them! At most, there might be half a dozen students there over the holidays."

Hermione set her jaw stubbornly, and looked away.

"They could take out that many children in one night with their raids," Charlie said. "We might be able to control it if..."

"Harry..." Hermione turned pleading eyes on him.

"Mione, I know," he said, his eyes full of pain. "I have children of my own. I know. But it's... it's got to be done. We'll do it in such a way that, hopefully, any children remaining at the school will be well out of the way. "

"How?" she demanded. "Harry, do you remember when we were in school? We were _always _ where we weren't supposed to be when we weren't supposed to be there! Just how are you going to ensure that they aren't in danger?"

"I can't, Hermione," he said honestly. "But we can do it at such a time when we're pretty certain that the students are safely away from the main areas of the school, and not in the presence of those we're looking for."

"At night," Kingsley said. "When they should be in bed in their dorms. But early enough that the ones we're looking for are still up and about."

"Yes," Harry confirmed.

"So, within the next four days, at night, we go on the offensive?"

"We have to," Harry said. "We take them out, fulfill the prophecy, and if we're lucky, that will be the end of it."

* * *

"_Their time is now as the masses gather,_

_They will love, and a new generation will be born,_

_And in that, their motivations will become clear._

_Those in denial of our world will most need it_

_when the skies erupt and fire scorches the earth._

_The western world will hold their own,_

_but victory is unassured._

_Only with a return to true belief in all things magical_

_will our world be balanced._

_Good and evil, black and white, East and West._

_The power no longer hidden_

_will be the only defense._

_But first, those who knew each other of old shall find their hatred anew._

_He who now reaches for the seat of power, _

_a thorn in the side of those of bravery and courage,_

_would seek to dispel all of impure blood._

_He has power of heritage, of blood, of name._

_And those who dismiss him shall be the first to fall._

_And fall they will, for this man, this serpent of green, shall rule,_

_unless one who has gone before, sacrifices all to defeat him._

_And if this new power rising is defeated, with student joining master in death,_

_Only then will the world rejoice in peace and prosperity._

_Only then will there be acceptance between the worlds of muggle and magic."_

Harry sat behind his desk, reading the script which lay on the desktop in front of him in the candlelight. Next to it lay a newspaper, a muggle newspaper. The headlines were unbelievable, after all this time. Apparently, people were beginning to listen to Stephen Lewis and his tabloid.

_Fires and Explosions: Death by gas leak, or magic?_

"Harry?" Ginny stuck her head around the edge of the door. "Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry managed to paste a smile on his face as he looked up at her. The room was dark except for the flickering of the fire and the single candle lit on his desk, and the flames reflected off her hair, making it glow.

His beautiful wife.

"Yes, love," he said. "Just thinking."

"Harry..." she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her.

"What is it, Gin?"

"We need to tell David and Susan..."

"Yes. I know." Harry sighed. "I guess I've just been hoping..."

"I'm absolutely certain that if Malcolm and Marion wereable to..." she paused. "They would have been in touch by now, Harry. You know that."

"I know."

"We also have to decide..."

"Decide?" he prompted her at her pause.

"Harry... Malcolm entrusted us with them until they got here, but... I doubt very much that we're their legal guardians. We need to decide what we're going to do with them."

"Do with them?" Harry hadn't considered this. His home was always full of people, he hadn't thought about permanency for Malcolm's children.

"Harry... they're not just objects that we've acquired. Someone needs to take the responsibility of raising them."

"I know, Gin..." Harry nodded, rubbing his hands over his face, trying to clear his mind. "I just hadn't considered... I'm sorry, love. I've been..."

"Oh, Harry!" she came forward to put her arms around him. "I know. You've had a lot on your mind... I know. But these are children. Questions will be asked if they..."

"Okay," Harry nodded. "I don't know how to deal with this, though. Who would we contact?"

"I think the first thing that needs to be done is to talk to David and Susan. They'll be able to tell us if they have any other family... Did Marion have siblings?"

"I don't know," Harry confessed. "I really know nothing about her."

"Well, the children will be able to tell us that. Then we need to contact the authorities... they already know that you're Malcolm's next of kin... I'm sure that they'll be relieved to find out that they're looking for two less bodies..."

Harry flinched.

"I'm sorry, love..." Ginny sighed. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

"I know," he took a deep breath. "Ginny..."

"What, love?"

"I need to ask you something."

"Okay?"

"Are you up for..." he swallowed. "If Malcolm and Marion are... if it comes down to it, are you willing for us to raise them?"

Ginny looked at him for a moment before responding.

"Don't you think that they would be better off with family they know better, if they have someone?"

"Perhaps," Harry agreed. "I wouldn't fight for them to stay with us, so long as they had another... more appropriate... situation to go to. However... if they don't..."

"Harry, if they have no one else," Ginny said gently, "or if they choose to stay here, of course I would be willing to have them here."

"Ginny..." Harry looked directly into her eyes. "Would that change if... if something happened to me?"

"Harry...?" Ginny looked at him suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

"I don't exactly lead a safe life, Gin. We know that, and have accepted it. I know that you're a wonderful mother to our children, and would be with or without me. But... David and Susan aren't our children... and they're not of our world. If I weren't here, would you still..."

"Harry," Ginny smiled, "If we were to take on that responsibility, I wouldn't be doing it for _you_. I'd be doing it for _them_. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said after a moment. "Yes, I do."

"Okay then. Enough of this doom and gloom. We agree that we need to talk to them, and we also need to make some decisions. I don't think that David will be returning to his school, so we have to decide where he _will_ be going..."

"None of them are going anywhere until this situation is taken care of," Harry said.

"What?"

"The children are not returning to school until I've dealt with this, Ginny. None of them."

"None...?"

"Well, the girls are returning to Hogwarts, of course... but the rest of them, those not of age yet, need to be kept here, where it's safe. Hogwarts is safe. I can't vouch for the community schools that the others have been attending. I need to talk to Fred and George about that."

"But Harry..."

"I know. I know it's crowded... I know that we're all wishing we could have our homes back... but it's almost over, Gin. I can feel it. We're almost there, and I don't want to be worried about our family while I should have my mind on getting rid of this... problem."

"It's not all on you, love."

"I know," he agreed. "But I still have to..."

Ginny sighed, "I think it's time for a family meeting."

Harry looked at her oddly. "Family meeting?"

"Yes... family meeting. You know?"

"Umm... no?"

"Harry!" Ginny looked at him oddly. "I know we haven't had one in years, but..."

Harry was looking at her curiously.

"You really don't know what a family meeting is?"

"Well..."

"Harry... a family meeting is where an entire family sits down together and works out a situation, together. If we're going to make a decision about the schooling of this family's children, we need the input from those children's parents."

"Oh..." Harry turned a bit pink. "I didn't think..."

"I know, love. But do you really think it would be appropriate for you to simply tell the others that you weren't allowing their children to return to school? It has to be their decision. It's their responsibility."

Harry sighed. "Am I too... bossy?"

"You've been responsible for so much for so long, Harry," she said. "You're not bossy, or pushy... you just see how things need to be, and put things in action to make them so. But you need to understand that the responsibility isn't always yours to keep us safe. The others are all capable of safeguarding their own, love. You offer them options, but you aren't responsible for anything more than that."

Harry sighed. "Have I done that to you?"

"What?"

"Told you what to do, rather than ask your opinion?"

"Yes," she said honestly.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she grinned. "Do you really think if I had a problem with it, I wouldn't say something? I thought you knew me better than that, Harry Potter!"

He smiled at her. "Keep it up, Mrs Potter. I like it when you talk back to me."

"I know," she said. "Now, I think we need to talk to David and Susan, and then we need to call that family meeting. Right?"

"Right."

"And Harry?"

"Yes, love?"

"The patriarch of the family normally takes charge, love."

Harry smiled, "I'll talk to your Dad, Gin."

"Thanks," she grinned as she left the room.

Harry sighed. Now he had a democracy to deal with. He'd just gotten used to telling people what to do, and now he couldn't... in this situation, at least.

Great. Just great.

* * *

"Sir?"

Harry looked up to see David standing in the doorway, Susan standing next to him, clutching his sleeve, the fingers of her other hand stuck in her mouth.

_They're just babies, really_, Harry thought.

"Come in, David. Susan." He stood and moved towards the sofa in front of the fire. "Come, sit down. We need to talk."

The two silently came forward, Susan staying behind David.

_She's frightened of me_, Harry thought. _Wonderful_.

"Susan?"

"Yeth, thir?"

"Take your fingers out of your mouth, love," Harry said gently.

"Yeth, thir."

Harry watched as the two came to sit across from him, sharing the large armchair.

"Sir? Mrs...Ginny... said you wanted to see us?"

"Yes, David," Harry nodded. "I'm afraid..."

"I know, sir!" David said quickly, glancing down at his sister, then back to Harry. "I know...but.."

Harry understood. David knew what he was about to say, and didn't want it said in front of his sister. Harry felt his heart tug.

"David..." Harry sighed. "We need to talk about... the future."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, do you know... have you any family on your mother's side? Aunts or uncles, maybe a cousin, grandparents?"

"No, sir," David shook his head. "Mum was... she had her Aunt, but she didn't... she died when Mum was at school. Mum told me once that we were lucky because Suze and I have each other... but she didn't have anyone but us and Dad."

Harry nodded. "You never went to visit with friends, or family..."

"Just at home... Mum and Dad had a couple of friends in town, but..."

"But no one you would... miss?"

"No, sir. I have my friends at school, but..."

"I see. David, we need to make some decisions about where you and Susan are going to go."

"But..." David's eyes watered, but he controlled it well. Harry's heart tugged again.

"But, what, David?"

"I was kind of..." David swallowed, then looked up at Harry. "Can't we stay here, sir?"

"Do you want to stay here?"

"It's..." David looked down at his hand clasped in Susan's. "It's safe here... and we like it here. And Mum and Dad know that this is where..."

"I know, David. But they're not..."

"I know... but if they _are_ okay, they'll know where to find us, right?"

"David," Harry leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped. "You need to understand that they probably won't be coming back. The village was pretty much gone. I couldn't find any trace of them. Do you understand this?"

"Yes, sir," David agreed. "But Susan needs to..."

"I know, David. I do know," Harry took a breath. "There is more. You can't return to your school this year."

David was silent.

"There are some... some bad people there, David, and I'm going to try to make them go away but, I don't know if I'll be able to. If you and Susan decide to stay here, with us, then you need to understand that you'll be living here, and learning here, and... your world can't ever go back to what it was. Do you understand that?"

"I think so," David said. "I knew about the bad men."

"Yes, Hermione told me that you'd seen one."

"No... I knew about Mrs Goyle, too."

"Your father said that your friends talked about her..."

"Not just talked," David said. "Dad wouldn't believe me. Zack Taggart's dad wouldn't believe him, either. But she is..."

"I know what she is, David. I went to school with her. You and Zack Taggart are right, she _is_ a witch, but that's not what makes her bad. All witches aren't bad. Ginny is a witch, and she's not bad. It's those who follow the Dark that..."

"Like in the books," David said.

"Yes," Harry smiled. "Like in the books."

"But the others were there, too."

"Others?"

"The other Death Eaters. They're down in the cellars, too. They come in from the pathways..."

"Pathways?"

"Yes, sir. From the forest."

Harry looked at the boy. Was it possible?

"What pathways from the forest, David?"

"That's how we found out about Mrs Goyle. Zack Taggart and I found three different pathways in the forest, and they all go to tunnels, and the tunnels go into the cellar at the school. We thought it was really cool, and we snuck out one night, and then when we were sneaking back in, we came into the cellars, and that's when we saw them."

"Saw who?"

"The Death Eaters. They live down there."

Harry leaned back in his seat, breathing deeply and trying to take it all in.

David may have just solved one of their problems.

* * *

_I'm BAAAACK! Ah, what a weekend! Hope you all enjoyed yours as much as I enjoyed mine! I've had some questions as to how long this story is going to be – if it will be comparable in length to Power of Truth, and the answer is that I'm not sure, but I think it's only going to be another four or five chapters, so word-wise, it will probably be shorter than Power of Truth._

_The good news is, I'm tentatively planning a prequel. So many people have asked for information on the Final Battle, Voldemort's death, and Hermione's exile, that I think I'm going to do that, but it will be very short (probably only a few chapters) and will not be a real "stand alone" story, as the answers to all the questions raised then are in Power of Truth._

_Thanks to all of you who have been so supportive. It really makes a difference for me when I write. My muse must have a needy ego!_

_CQ_

_**Merlindamage:** Snape and Harry are very much alike, I think, underneath it all. It's like Dumbledore told Harry – it's the choices that we make that make us who we are._

_**SaerrySnape:** Oh, come ON! You guys read the Power of Truth and didn't expect SOME kind of a twist? _

_**Larna Mandrea**: You really do give great reviews, you know. I'm hoping to have a few updates this week, but we'll see. My muse is angry at me for fighting with her last week. In case you're wondering – she won. _

_**Shotgunn:** "Sprog"? Okay, I know that I am... for a Canadian... well versed in Britishisms.... but this one escapes me.... sprog??? Relax, Potter Manor may be about to pop at the seams, but it will all come right in a while... after all, family is family, right? _

_**Pdlegirl:** Cliffhanger's are fun to write! But you guys had this figured out – I can't believe anyone read Power of Truth and didn't realize there would be a twist!_

_**Lalaluu:** Thanks! I wonder at times if I write clearly enough. I mean, I see it in my head – and I can't always be sure that what I see is what you guys see when you read what I've written... it's good to know that it's coming through!_

_**James Milamber:** Okay, I take it you don't like my Snape history lesson, then, huh? Ah well, you can't please all of the people all of the time.... Actually, I wasn't sure about that scene, but my muse insisted. It just didn't work any other way. The only emotions Snape really understood when he was younger (and even now, really) were the negative ones... pain, anger, jealousy. In all honesty, I don't see him responding to Harry as he did for any other reason than one of these. We know he hated James... but JKR is never REALLY clear on his feelings towards Lily (just his prideful response to her interference), and we know Snape was prideful as a student – his response to Lily's actions (as seen in the pensieve) COULD have been because of his jealousy. I prefer to think of it that way, considering the role he appears to have come to play in Harry and Ginny's children's lives. That bit (his doting on Lily Mione) just happened, and didn't feel right when it was removed, so it was put back in, and this was the only way I could comfortably reconcile the "two" Snapes. So, my friend, my apologies. I know how I feel when people include, say, "uber-Harry" details... things that even within the fantasy context of the story are out of place... but they are part of a story, and we can't dictate to our muses. _

_**Gorman99: **Thanks! That is, in part, what I was trying to get across – I'm glad it came through, and didn't just confuse everyone!_

_**GigiFanfic:** Here you go, Jeanne... hope you enjoy it!_

_**Elise:** I think part of what was trying to come through with that scene was who Snape really was. Granted, he's a git. Always has been, no argument there. But there had to be a REASON for him to abandon Voldemort's cause and turn to Dumbledore and the Order... The part with "decadence" just happened, I swear! I don't know where it came from!_

_**Wren Truesong:** Wow, you read them both straight through? You've been in front of your computer for a while, haven't you? I have LOVED writing these characters. I've never been much for OC's, as I find that they tend to be simply a vehicle for the author to put themselves in the story... but they fit here, I guess, considering that it's twenty years later, and obviously others would have come and gone in their lives. As to the homeschooling thing, the biggest support I have is my boys' Dad. I couldn't do it without him. When I first realized that what I wanted to do (homeschool) was something that others were doing already, I thought the same thing – why couldn't MY mom have done that with ME? But different lives, right? Besides, as much as I hated school, it made me who I am – and I'm okay with that! And we NEVER stop learning, so if you feel the need, HOMESCHOOL YOURSELF! It's called autodidactism... lifelong learning, and it's a wonderful thing!_

_Review, review, review!!_

_CQ_


	18. Chapter Eighteen: What's Normal?

Chapter Eighteen: What's Normal?

"So, I think we have an opportunity here. Bill," Harry took a deep breath, remembering what Ginny had said earlier. He looked around at the Weasley men congregated in his office. "I think we ought to call a meeting of the Order here, tonight."

"Done, Harry," Bill nodded. "Charlie, can I get you to notify McGonagall? Ron and I will pull the others together?"

"Sure, Bill..." Charlie nodded.

As the men turned to the door to leave, Harry spoke. "Arthur, can I speak to you for a moment?"

"Of course, Harry," Arthur turned back. "What is it?"

"Arthur..." Harry watched as the door closed behind Ron andhis brothers. "I spoke to Ginny..."

"Yes?"

"I don't think it's wise to send the children back to school after the Christmas break. I know that some of the others were thinking that things have calmed down enough..."

"Harry, if you don't think it's wise, then we'll..."

"I was talking to Ginny, Arthur, and I realize... well, I have no right to tell them what is best in this case. Ginny suggested a family meeting to discuss..."

"Ah, yes.," Arthur smiled ruefully. "True democracy at work."

"Ginny seemed to think so," Harry agreed.

"Well, I think it's got it's merits, Harry, but..."

"But?"

"Well, it's probably been twenty five or thirty years since we had a family meeting... perhaps Ginny's memory is... deceiving her."

"How so?"

"Harry," Arthur sat down. "Family meetings, at least within the Weasley family, tend to be rather... loud. And as you know, when everyone is busy shouting, little gets decided, either way."

"Oh."

"And, in the end..." Arthur smiled. "It generally tended to be Molly and I doing what we felt was best, regardless."

"Ah," Harry nodded. "Well, I have the right to do that with my children, Arthur, but I know Ginny, and..."

"Ah, yes.," Arthur nodded. "No explanation necessary, Harry. I've lived with her predecessor for nearly fifty years. Shall I call the meeting, or will you?"

"Um... well..."

"Yes," Arthur grinned. "Harry, I may be the..."

"Patriarch." Harry supplied dryly.

"Yes... the patriarch..." Arthur's mouth twitched with amusement. "But this is still your house."

"I think it might be..."

"I see," Arthur was finding it difficult to stop from laughing. "Ginny. Right, then, son... I'll take care of it, shall I? An hour?"

* * *

The first Weasley family meeting in over twenty five years was held in the War Room, as it was the only room that would fit them all. The adults left Ginny's girls in charge of the younger ones in the playroom upstairs, and hoped that the younger children would mind their elder cousins.

Although everyone seemed rather surprised at first when Harry took a seat between Ginny and Hermione, leaving the chair at the head of the table to Arthur, they quickly adjusted, and the discussion revolved around the education of the children, the safety of their schools, and the living situation at Potter Manor.

Harry was actually quite surprised when it came out that the consideration of returning the children to their community schools had been more in his head than reality. In fact, George and Fred and their families seemed shocked that it had been considered.

"Harry," George spoke. "There is something that we need to discuss, secondary to the children's education."

"Yes?" Harry looked at George.

"We're all living under your roof, and... well... some of us have been here for some time..."

"George, it's not like we don't have the room," Harry smiled.

"I know, but... we're not contributing," George flushed. "and you and Ginny have had no privacy... and it doesn't sit well with me that we're living on your dime."

Harry was surprised. He hadn't even thought about that.

"George, that isn't a problem..."

"It is for me, Harry," George replied. "We Weasley's may not be flush, but we do have our pride. I have a problem with you footing the bill for everything while we all live here."

Harry swallowed, then spoke quietly. "You're family, George. All of you are family. Family doesn't ask for... payment... if that's what you're talking about."

"I don't want to pay you, Harry... I want to contribute to the household expenses."

"Rightly so, Harry," Ron said. "We know that this is the safest place for us right now, but once it's all over, Mione and I will be moving to the cottage, until then, you need to take something for our keep."

"Ron, you've always lived here..."

"Yes... because it made sense. But now..."

"Harry," Arthur said. "I agree. You've been wonderful for all of us, but..."

"Arthur," Harry turned to his father in law. "For seven years you and Molly provided the only home I knew, other than Hogwarts. Every summer, after I put in my time with my aunt, you welcomed me. Are you telling me that you would have been more comfortable if I had paid room and board at that time?"

"Of course not, Harry..."

"Then don't even bring that up with me now," Harry said warningly. "I've gotten more from your family, from all of you, than I have ever given back. More than I could ever repay. Any one of you would be welcome here at any time, and I will not take money for your keep."

There was a moment of silence before Harry spoke again.

"I just want you all safe, and this is the safest place there is right now, besides perhaps Hogwarts. I can't be sure of anyone's safety if they aren't here, or there... and in all honesty, I don't have the time to be worried about it. Hopefully this situation will be... over with soon. Until then, I really don't want to hear any more about it."

* * *

Harry was seated in his study later when his cel phone rang. Harry picked it up and looked at the small screen. Not a number he recognized.

"Potter," he answered it.

"Mr Potter... my name is Scott Metcalfe... I'm with social services..."

"Yes?"

"I... Mr Potter, I understand that you are the next of kin to Mr Malcolm and Mrs Marion Rivers? Mr Rivers was your cousin, I understand?"

"Yes, I am," Harry replied.

"Well, Mr Potter... I'm sorry to have to give you this news... the authorities have been working on your cousins' street, and... we have recovered the bodies of Mr and Mrs Rivers. They were found in the rubble under their home..."

"Yes." Harry sighed. "I rather thought..."

"Mr Potter, are you alright?"

"Yes, yes... thank you. It's just... my cousin... well..."

"Yes, I do understand, Mr Potter. Now... I understand that you have Mr and Mrs' Rivers' children staying with you?"

"Yes... they were spending a few days with us when...when the news came of the... explosion."

"Yes, of course..." Metcalfe paused. "Mr Potter, unfortunately... there is no record... Unfortunately the... size of the blast decimated most of the town, including, from what we understand, Mr and Mrs Rivers' solicitors office... and their solicitor's home... and unfortunately, their solicitor... so we have no record..."

"Are you telling me that you're intending to take David and Susan?"

"Oh, no, Mr Potter! On the contrary! We... well, we were hoping that you might shed some light on the options available for the River's children... and perhaps on what Mr and Mrs River's wishes might have been."

"Malcolm and Marion were both alone in the world, except for me. To my understanding, at any rate. My aunt and uncle, Malcolm's parents... raised me. I'm afraid I didn't know Marion's family, but David assures me that there was no one else."

"I see, Mr Potter. Well... this rather puts us between a rock and the proverbial hard place."

"How so?"

"Well, we have no indication of what Mr and Mrs River's wishes might have been. You appear to be the only remaining family, and David and Susan are already in your care, suggesting to me that you were trusted by Mr and Mrs Rivers..."

"And?"

"Well, normally in cases such as these, the children would become wards of the crown, and you would have to apply to take over their care, but... with the fact that the children were already with you, I'm hoping you'll tell me that this situation may continue, and save me a lot of paperwork."

"My wife and I have already discussed this, Mr Metcalfe. The children have a home with us for as long as they should want it."

"Lovely! So, all that remains is the home inspection..."

"Home inspection?" Harry blanched.

"Yes... of course. I mean, we can hardly approve the fostering if the home is unsuitable... I'm sure it will be fine, Mr Potter... we only need to ascertain that the environment is a normal, healthy one for the children to grow up in."

"Ah... normal. Yes. Of course," Harry nodded, thinking of the two dozen extended family members currently living in his home, the Order meeting due to be held that evening, and his pregnant wife and five other children.

Three of whom went to a boarding school in Scotland that the Muggle social services were unlikely to have any record of.

Not to mention the presence of Hermione, known as Maura Kennedy in the muggle world, and now viewed as a crackpot who wrote about the reality of a fantasy world in the UK's biggest tabloid.

All wonderfully normal.

"I'm assuming that this is not an issue, Mr Potter?"

"Of course not..." Harry took a deep breath. "And when would we be able to do this... home inspection?" _Because it had better be soon, as I might be dead come Thursday._

"Well, I could be there in, say... an hour?"

"An... hour?" Harry said faintly.

"Yes... I can bring the paperwork, and we can have a quick chat, and we might be able to have everything settled, at least for the interim... immediately. You are in London, I believe?"

After Harry disconnected the call, he sighed, then stood, walked to the door and, opening it, bellowed for his wife.

* * *

Scott Metcalfe was a slim, tired looking man of indeterminate age. Harry had him pegged at around forty, but Ginny later said that she felt he must be around fifty five. Harry allowed that Ginny might be much more able to gauge the man's age, as he didn't make a habit of checking out men nor speculating on their age.

After frantically spending the past hour trying to organize things to make things around Potter Manor appear as 'normal' as possible, and having Ron take Hermione to Hogwarts for the afternoon, at Hermione's insistence, they were ready with minutes to spare for the visit from the Children's services.

They had all decided that attempting to clear out all the visitors to Potter Manor would be ludicrous, and Molly had suggested that, as it was still officially the holidays, they could dismiss their numbers by saying they were having a family reunion while the children were out of school.

Harry had sighed with relief.

And now, the man who Harry had spoken to was standing in their front hall, having his coat taken by Harry, and being welcomed by Ginny.

"What a lovely home..." he looked around the large vestibule and up at the oak stairs that led up to the three stories above. "And quite large..."

"Yes... we have... a large family," Ginny smilied. "Potter Manor was left to Harry by his parents... it's been in his family for generations."

"I see," Scott Metcalfe's eyes darted around, taking note of the expensive furnishings.

"Why don't we go into the stud..." Ginny paused at Harry's head shaking, panicked, behind their guest.

"Owl," he mouthed.

"Ah... lounge." Ginny smiled, turning and leading them down the hallway and into the lounge, where Mary and Maddy were playing a game of Exploding Snap.

Harry took a sharp breath and let it go when Mary quickly gathered the cards and stood. Thank Merlin the cards had not chosen that moment to explode, or Harry would have had either some fancy explaining, or some fancy wandwork to do.

"Mr Metcalfe... these are two of our daughters, Mary and Madeline," Ginny introduced them.

"Lovely, lovely... and how many children do you have, Mrs Potter?"

"Well, Mary and Madeline and their sister Megan are from my first marriage... and Harry and I have the twins together, and now..." Ginny indicated to her distended belly.

"First marriage?" he enquired.

"Yes... my first husband passed away seven years ago."

"I see... "he made a note in his booklet. "Now, are there any other occupants of the household?"

"Well, currently, we're bursting at the seams," Ginny smiled. "During the holidays, we've been having a family reunion of sorts. My brothers, and my parents, and the inlaws of one of my brothers... and their families."

"My... rather a lot of people for one home..."

"Yes... well, there is plenty of room. We have the largest home, so we hosted the... reunion." Harry said awkwardly.

"Rather different than the home you were raised in, Mr Potter?"

"My aunt and uncle were of more modest means, yes. Mrs Rivers was my mother's sister. My mother married into the Potter family."

"Why didn't they choose to live here... as your guardians...?"

"This home wasn't their style at all," Harry said. "They felt they had to raise me to be more... appreciative... of the things wealth cannot give you. I inherited this home on my eighteenth birthday, as per my parents wishes."

"I see... and you will obviously have enough room for the children? They will each be allowed their own room, I take it?"

"Of course," Ginny smiled, but Harry could tell it was rather more strained than it had been.

"I'd like to see the children, of course, and if you could show me the main living area of the home, and in lieu of references, I would be happy to meet some of your family... then we can discuss the children's educational plans?"

Harry gulped, Ginny gave a rather brittle smile, and then stood to go and find David and Susan.

Afterwards, Harry was sure that he had lost ten years of his life from stress. And, of course, having to adjust the man's memory after the interview to remove any information, like the address of Potter Manor, from it, and his written notes, was nerve-wracking in the extreme. But in the end, they had the signed fostering order, proclaiming them the guardians of David and Susan Rivers, and Harry sighed with relief.

After seeing Scott Metcalfe into his car, and quietly performing the spell that would erase all sensitive information from his mind and notes by the time he reached the corner, Harry returned to the house and collapsed on the sofa in his study.

"Harry?"

"I really do not want to go through that again, Ginny," he sighed as Ginny sat down next to him.

"I know, love. But I think it went well. If it hadn't, I'm certain he would have taken the children with him."

"When he asked about the children's education..."

"That was inspired, Harry! Telling him that we had decided to keep them close and hire a private tutor... I could tell he felt that was a positive thing."

"I think the thing that Scott Metcalfe was inspired by was the size of our house and the apparent size of our bank account," Harry sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back against the upholstered arm of the sofa. "If I hadn't adjusted his memory when he left, I am quite sure he would have spent the remainder of the afternoon looking into exactly who I am."

"You told him," Ginny giggled, remembering when the man had made a joke about Harry's name, and the attention he must get from it.

"_You really have no idea. My name being Harry Potter has caused me problems for years,"_ Harry had said with a smile. _ "But in reality, I am just a businessman with some varied investments and interests. Rather a boring alternative, I know, but it pays the bills."_

"Well, Mrs Potter..." Harry turned to her with a smile. "It looks as though I really have married a true Weasley, if the number of children we now have between us is anything to go by."

"You promised me lots of babies, Harry..." she curled up next to him on the sofa, tucking her head in under his chin and sighing contentedly as his arms came around her to pull her close. "Number eight will be here in early summer... you know, I think ten is a nice, round number..."

"Tell me that in the middle of delivering this one, love, and I might think you're halfway serious," Harry murmured. "I should get ready for the Order meeting."

"In a minute, Harry..." Ginny yawned, rubbing her cheek against his sweater-clad chest. "This is so nice..."

And twenty minutes later, that was where Molly found them, curled up and sound asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

_So, I'm looking at three more chapters, folks. The response I've gotten to my mentioning the possibility of a prequel has pretty much decided that it's going to have to happen. But I'm going to take a bit of a break between. I want to write the entire thing before posting, because I want it to be "right". But it will only be maybe four chapters... I'm not sure yet as I don't even have an outline written. We'll see._

_**Merlindamage:** I think you've been the first reviewer for the past three chapters or so! You must live on your computer! Confusion is good... it keeps you out of my head!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** I said Tuesday, I meant Tuesday! Anyhow – looking like three (???) more chapters after this one... unless my muse is playing mind games again, which is of course possible! The title came from Harry's lack of faith in people to love him, and in his own abilities to be more than a "saviour" to anyone. This fic is about the strength of that love, and the power that having faith in it gives. I hope to start the prequel shortly after I finish here (because I know I would be hunted down if I took time away from THIS to do it!) and I'm hoping to post it all at once. It's only going to be a few chapters, so it shouldn't be too long a wait! And I've already got another idea... well... later, gator!_

_**Shotgunn:** Ah. Sprogs. Yes, now I get it. You really need to stay out of my head, you know that? Did you see the Liverpool/Charlton game? Brilliant. I LOVE Garcia!! I hadn't heard that Man U beat Arsenal, but hey, anything that brings them down a peg or two... _

_**James Milamber:** See? I knew you could see it my way if you REALLY tried... now... as to the Dark Lord thing... keep trying. I'm sure it will come to you!_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Toronto, huh? I lived there for nine years. My brother lives in Metro (the core of the Greater Toronto Area or GTA – which is made up of about six cities all together). It's not so bad, if you like that kind of buzz. It's... cultural, shall we say? I prefer the pace of Calgary, but hey... that's just me. There are some AMAZING clubs in Toronto, though, and the services are wonderful. If you want it, at any time day or night, you can get it. Keep me updated, as I'm in T.O., normally, about once a year. And no, it isn't bad of you to hope he doesn't accept it, if it's not what you want. I can only say, be honest with him about it. Maybe he thinks that you'd be happy to go?_

_**Gigifanfic:** Thanks! James didn't like my explanation of Snape's relationship with Lily... and I have to admit to being hesitant over it myself, but that's the way the muse made it happen, and sometimes, there's no going back on that!_

_**Gorman99:** We would have to have words? Have you met Larna Mandrea? She managed to keep me posting pretty regularly with a mixture of gushing loveliness and underhanded threats... what can I say? It seems to work, as my muse keeps coming up with this stuff..._

_CQ_


	19. Chapter Nineteen: Duty and Honor

Chapter Nineteen: Duty and Honor

The Order meeting that evening was not a positive one. Harry realized too late that giving them all time to think things through may have been a mistake, and he spent much of the hour and a half sitting at the head of the long table rubbing his eyes, exasperated.

He was exhausted. He was sick of living this way, but the only alternative was... well the prophecy would take care of that.

He wasn't ready to die yet. He wanted to see the child Ginny carried... his child, born. He knew there would be no more babies. Unless Ginny remarried again, she would have eight, and only eight.

At least they had beat Molly and Arthur's final count.

At that moment, hearing Hermione and Charlie bickering, Harry snapped.

"I have had _enough_!" He stood angrily. After a moment of unsuppressed rage, he realized that every eye in the room was on him, and they were all silent.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," he looked at his wife of so short a time. Too short a time. "I tried. I tried to do it your way, but I can't do this."

"I understand, Harry."

"Harry," Arthur smiled down the table at him. "It's never easy to lead."

"I'm sick to death of leading, Arthur," Harry said. "And I rather think I can honestly say that this is the last time I intend to do it."

There were gasps around the room, and Harry glanced around.

"While we sit here, bickering about which _side_ of the school to apparate to, that Dark bastard is also making plans. Plans for the next attack. The longer we take bitching at each other about inconsequential details, the more time he has to kill innocents.

"And I, for one," Harry placed his hands firmly on the the table and leaned forward menacingly. "Have seen enough of the death of innocents to last me _several_ lifetimes!

"Now, I realize it would be very nice if we all could decide on what to do, and just do it, preferably in the next few hours. Consensus is lovely. But as that doesn't seem to be possible, I'm going to tell you what I have planned, and you can govern yourselves accordingly.

"Tomorrow night, I intend to apparate into the woods near the school. I am going to wait in those woods until I can be reasonably sure that those children still in residence are safely tucked away for the night. At that point, I intend to use one of the tunnels that my cousin's son has told us of to get inside the school.

"Then, I am going to destroy every Death Eater I see, and pray to Merlin that I manage to find their bloody ringleader before I get mowed down by a stray Death Curse. I intend to take him out, fulfill the damned prophecy, and see it ended, once and for all.

"If anyone would like to join me, I would appreciate it if you were here by nine tomorrow evening."

"Harry..." Hermione began.

"Mione," he turned to her, pain in his eyes. "I love you dearly, and wouldn't hurt you for the world, but I am finished discussing this. Whether you join me or not is something that you and Ron need to discuss between you. It has nothing more to do with me.

"Good night, everyone."

And with that, he strode from the room, leaving stunned silence behind him.

* * *

_I can do this, I can do this..._ Harry chanted in his mind from where he sat in this high desk chair, his head resting back against the soft leather upholstery, his eyes closed.

"Harry?"

His eyes snapped open to see his friend framed in the doorway.

"Ron?"

"I... I know you need some time alone," Ron said, watching Harry closely. "But I just wanted to tell you..."

"What is it, Ron?"

"I'm with you, mate," Ron said softly, his concerned eyes on his friend. "To hell and back, no matter what, I'm with you."

Harry took a deep breath, looking across the room into the eyes of the one person who had been at his side, through thick and thin, since he was eleven years old. It was Ron who had sacraficed himself so that Harry could go on and save the Philosopher's Stone... it had been Ron who had walked with him down into the Chamber of Secrets, it had been Ron who had cheered him on during the tournaments in fourth year, it had been Ron who had insisted on taking advanced Auror training with Harry, regardless of the exhaustion and lack of a life while they did it. It had been Ron who had stood next to him during the final battle with Voldemort, Ron who he had trusted the defense of his back to, and vice versa. It had been Ron who had held Harry back from killing Malfoy, countless times, but that last time as Hermione lay in the hospital wing after the final battle, and keeping Harry out of Azkaban as a result.

It had been Ron who had shed his shirt and grabbed a shovel next to Harry when they dug Dumbledore's grave, silently, because he understood that Harry had issues to deal with with Dumbledore's passing that could not be solved by anything except hard physical labor and eventual exhaustion.

And it had been Ron who had stood next to Harry at Dean and Ginny's wedding, his hand on his shoulder, his eyes understanding the pain that showed only in Harry's eyes as he looked at his friend. It had been Ron who had gotten falling-down drunk with Harry the next night, and carried him back to Fred and George's flat, where the three brothers had watched over Harry while he couldn't watch over himself, when he didn't care what happened.

It had been Ron who had moved into Potter Manor, to keep Harry from being alone and becoming the recluse he would have become had he been left to his own devices. And it had been Ron who had suggested that he offer a home to Ginny and the girls after Dean's death. Harry would never have dared otherwise.

Ron had always been there, and Harry knew that friendship such as that had didn't go away. Ever.

"Thanks, Ron."

"Hey," Ron said, grinning hugely. "If nothing else, we'll give them one hell of a run for it, right?"

"Damned straight, we will," Harry agreed, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"Well, I'm going to go and find Mione. When she finds out I'm going with you..."

"There'll be no stopping her, you know," Harry said, knowing full well what Hermione's reaction would be.

"Yeah," Ron flushed. "I know. But I can try."

"You do that, Ron."

Moments after Ron left, Ginny entered.

"Harry? Are you coming to bed, love?"

"Soon, Gin. I have... a couple of things I need to do."

"Okay," she looked at him closely. "Do you want me to stay with you?"

Harry looked over at her. At four months pregnant, he knew she tired easily. He saw the slight bulge under her sweater and felt a stab of pain. He knew he wouldn't be there to see this child born.

"No, go on up. I'll be there shortly."

"Okay, Harry," she turned back to the door, but stopped before passing through into the hallway. She didn't turn back, but spoke. "And, Harry?"

"What, Gin?"

"I won't be coming tomorrow," she said quietly.

"I know, love."

"But it's not because I don't love you."

"I know."

"Or have faith in you."

_Faith_.

Harry nodded. Then, realizing she wasn't looking at him, said, "I know, Ginny."

When she left, Harry stood and made his way to the drinks cabinet, took the bottle of firewhiskey and a glass, and made for the sofa.

Tomorrow he might die. The prophecy said he would if he was to eliminate this Dark Lord...

So, tonight, he intended to get good and drunk.

* * *

"I'm going with Harry tomorrow night," Ron began, pacing in front of Hermione in their room, two floors above where Harry was pouring his first stiff shot of the night.

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes but she nodded.

"I know."

"And," Ron continued. "I don't want you coming, Mione."

"I know."

"I mean it... you're too important..." Ron was working up a pretty good head of steam. Hermione considered, for a moment, arguing with him, but realized that, on this at least, she couldn't.

"I'll stay with Ginny, Ron."

"I don't want to hear..." Ron stopped, realizing what she had just said, and turned to look at her. "What?"

"I said, I'll stay with Ginny."

Ron stared blankly at her for a moment, then came and sat next to her on their bed.

"No argument?" he asked.

"No."

"Why not?"

"What?"

"Mione, we've been fighting since we were eleven. Sometimes I even get to win. But not that easily. Something is up."

Hermione considered that.

"The first prophecy," she said after a moment.

"About Harry and Voldemort?" Ron looked confused.

"No!" Hermione was exasperated. "The first prophecy about _us_, Ron! The one about Mahood and... and me. And you."

"Ah," Ron nodded. "Well, what about it?"

"It says that we'll die together," she said simply.

Ron smiled sadly, "Oh. That."

"So if I don't go... You can't die if I'm not there, Ron."

"And you worked this all out on your own, love?"

"Ron," she turned tortured eyes up to him. "I have a really bad feeling about this. A really, really bad feeling."

"Mione..."

"I don't think that Harry is coming back from this one, Ron," she whispered. It was as close as she would come to breaking the promise she had made. "I'm certain of it."

Ron nodded. "I've got to admit that I've been... well, my auror senses have been on full alert lately. Don't worry, Mione. I'll get him back here."

"Ron," she said, laying a hand on his arm, the tears now freely falling down her cheeks. "I love Harry dearly, but you just worry about getting _you_ back here, okay?"

* * *

"Harry?"

Harry sighed. Too many damned people in the house. He couldn't even get drunk in peace.

"What is it, Sev?"

"I was about to leave, but I see you could use some company."

"You just like my brandy," Harry smiled, waving Snape towards the drinks cabinet.

"I do admit, it is a particularly fine vintage, Potter," Snape said as he poured himself a glass and came to sit across from where Harry was sprawled on the sofa. He nodded towards Harry's glass. "How many of those have you had?"

"Three, so far," Harry glanced idly at the bottle. "Looks to be at least six left. By that time, I should have achieved my goal."

"The death of thousands of brain cells?" Snape asked.

Harry laughed, "Yes... I suppose. In twenty four hours or so, I doubt it will matter."

Severus stilled, instinctively realizing that what Harry was saying would not have been said but for the effects of the firewhiskey he'd already consumed.

"Oh?"

"I have a... bad feeling, Sev," Harry said quietly, and much less jovially. "This is the one."

"The one?"

Harry looked Snape in the eye, then continued.

"I faced Voldemort six times, Sev. The last time, I fully expected to not walk away. Tom had forty years of experience on me, and a really, really bad attitude. Not to mention a tested, tried and true ability with the Death Curse. I'd never used it, nor did I think I would be able to when it came down to it. The thought of using it sickened me, but... No one was more surprised than I was when I walked away from the final battle.

"Then, over the years, I took part in several auror operations before officially retiring from the ranks. I hated being an auror, but I came home each time relatively unscathed, despite my efforts to the contrary. It's funny... Ron says they still talk about some of the things... well, suffice to say that the only reason I took such risks that appeared to pay off so well was because I didn't really care whether I lived or died. After Ginny married Dean... well, I didn't know that I had anything much to live for. I'd fulfilled the prophecy, eliminated the Dark Lord, what more use did I have?

"Then, Mahood. Strangely, I wasn't that concerned about death even then. It didn't seem to be that great a threat. I mean, I knew it was possible, maybe even probable, and made arrangements in case it happened, but..."

Snape waited.

"But now," Harry sighed, shook his head, then raised his glass. After a moment, he looked up, meeting the eyes of his old professor. "Duty and honor, Sev," Harry said with a rueful smile. "That's what it's all about. Because I was the _boy who lived_, I had a duty to this world of ours. And my honor... what I had of it, insisted that I follow through.

"Once Voldemort was gone, duty became the reason I responded to every expectation, every time. Then, by the time Mahood came...it was habit.

"Now, I have Ginny, and our children. I have a duty to them..."

Harry looked down into his glass.

"Duty and honor," he shook his head, tossed back the remainder of his drink, and reach again for the bottle in front of him. "Life's a bitch, Sev."

Snape thought of this for a moment. This man had grown from a boy who had endured a childhood much similar to Snape's own, and Voldemort's. Yet he had become this man. This man who always, without fail, put the good of his loved ones, the good of others of their world, before his own.

Harry had a child about to be born, he had children and a beautiful wife, was young, and vital, and an asset to their world as the Minister of Magic. Yet tomorrow night, he had determined to go and hunt out danger personally, in the name of duty and honor.

How had they grown into such different men from such similar beginnings, the three of them? And how had Draco Malfoy grown into what he had become from the privileged beginning he had enjoyed? And Hermione Granger... a muggle child, who grew to become one of the most intelligent, able witches in their world.

Not to mention the Weasleys. As adults, Snape enjoyed the company of each of them. They had all become devoted members of the Order, who would die for each other without regret... yet they had endured a childhood of taunting and derogatory remarks because of their social and financial status. And yet, Percy Weasley had walked away from a safehouse, to certain death, to save Molly and Ginny from being found.

How did all of that happen? How did good come from bad, and bad from good?

_Choices,_ he thought. _Albus once said it was the choices we make..._

And perhaps that meant that there was hope... Severus sipped from his glass.

"Harry..."

"What, Sev?"

"I have to apologize to you," Severus said quietly.

"Excuse me?" Harry looked shocked.

"I was..." Snape hesitated. "I apologize for my treatment of you as a child. My life, to that point, had not been a happy one, and some of that unhappiness was caused by choices I made before you were born. Choices that involved your parents. I cannot condone it now, but at the time, it seemed the only path open to me."

It was Harry's turn to be silent.

"Pride kills, Harry. Pride is more hurtful, in it's way, than hatred. Pride destroys you if it is allowed to rule you."

"Sev..."

"You have proven to be a very wise young man, Harry Potter. In my years with the Order since the fall of Voldemort, I have seen you grow, and become a much stronger leader than we have ever had, than Albus could have dreamt of being. And you have allowed me..."

Snape considered for a moment. "You have allowed me something that I never thought I would have. Something resembling a family. You and Ginny, your children, have become... important to me. And with the history that we have... I can only thank you, without understanding why you would allow it."

"Sev..."

"I must go," Snape stood hurriedly, obviously uncomfortable with the things he had revealed. "Duty and honor, Harry. You're not the only one who feels the pull of it. Some of us are, however, only just realizing that it calls to us, as well."

Harry was silent as he watched the older man place his glass on the tray.

"Goodnight, Sev."

Severus looked at him for a moment, his eyes clear.

"Goodbye, Harry."

Harry stood and followed the older man out of the room, but Snape had disapparated by the time Harry made it to the bottom of the stairs. Sighing, he looked around the front hall of his home, and nodded. It would be worth it.

He moved up the stairs to his room, to find Ginny asleep, curled into his pillow.

Yes, it would be worth it.

* * *

In a small clearing in the trees east of the school, a sudden breeze masked the sound of the wizard apparating. The breeze played with the long black robes, whipping them around the knees of the man who turned to look through the trees at the building standing in the distance. Lights still showed in the high windows, but he wouldn't have long to wait.

Clutching his cloak around him, he began to make his way around the clearing, looking for the entrance to the tunnel that he knew was there. Eventually, he found it, hidden behind a rock, leading down through the brambles and into darkness. He retrieved his wand from inside his robe and held it before him.

"_Lumos,_" and there was light burning softly at the tip of it. He used it to guide his way into the tunnel. He would have to put it out once he got his bearings. He could not allow them to see the light of his wand before he was ready to reveal his presence.

He always knew that it would come full circle. This was it. And he was glad. He was ready to pay his debts and allow the end to come, so long as he could take a few of them with him... it might make their job tomorrow night easier. If he was very lucky, it would make it completely unnecessary, and all that the group tomorrow would find would be the bodies.

In either case, Harry and the others would be relatively safe, and his debts would be paid. He could move on to whatever the next world offered in good conscience.

He could see a faint glow ahead, and took a deep breath.

"_Nox_," he said, the light of his wand going out, he moved forward.

* * *

Miles away in London, in a bedroom in a large manor house, a man sat up straight in his bed.

"Goodbye?" He thought for a moment before jumping out of bed. "_Damn it_!"

* * *

_Well? You like? You don't like? Review! Review!_

_**Saerry Snape:** Twists and turns, that's what makes the world go round! I'm glad it amuses you! Harry does seem to have more than his fair share of uncomfortable moments, doesn't he?_

_**Merlindamage: **Prequel will be a couple of weeks, I think, but don't hold me to that. It all depends on the muse, you know..._

_**Shotgunn:** Yes, dear... the prequel WAS your idea, but only because at the time I didn't even think that anyone would bother to read my efforts... much less insist on the story continuing! Anyhow – we're reaching the end – and you've been there from pretty much the beginning. Thanks – you have no idea what that has meant to me and my muse! (But Man U still bites....)_

_**Elise:** Oh, I DO love to make you all squirm, and speculate! Hmm... now what else can I throw in the mix...?_

_**Ladyknight77:** Merlindamage is one of my personal heroes. Have you read Truth? I find that some people "get" Faith without reading it, and others just have questions!_

_**Whimsical Firefly:** Yes, "cultural" can be very good. Toronto is a very interesting, happening kind of city. Lots going on, and lots of things to see and learn. There is a place on the Danforth called the Gerrard Pizza and Spaghetti House... you've got to try their pasta carbonara... Anyhow, I digress... Toronto can be an AMAZING city to live in, but when we started our family, we realized it wasn't the place to raise little ones. Let me know what the final decision is! BTW -- "trouble" appears to be my middle name, these days. Oh, well – Santa's coming, right?_

_**Pdlegirl:** I do love happy reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside! _

_**Larna Mandrea:** More coming! Then the prequel. I expect you to allow me at least a week lead time on that, my dear... I'm not a machine, you know (wink)._

_CQ_


	20. Chapter Twenty: This Is It, Isn't It?

_You know, I was going to make you all wait, but then I figured... why? It's done. It's finished. This is the second to last chapter, they're written, and edited, and ready to go. So why wait?_

_I never did have much patience... ever!_

_Thank you so much to those of you who have been along for the ride... it's been wild. I've enjoyed this so very, very much. You have no idea what a break this has been for me from my normal routine. _

_I promise – the prequel is coming!_

_CQ  
_

* * *

_  
_

Chapter Twenty: This Is It, Isn't It?

"Ron! Ron, wake up!" Harry hissed at his best friend.

"I don't _want_ to ride the merry-go-round..." Ron muttered.

"Harry?" Hermione's sleepy voice came from the other side of the bed.

"Mione! Can you wake him?"

"Ron, love..." she shook Ron's shoulder.

"What?" Ron stirred.

"Harry is trying to wake you..."

"Harry?" Ron turned in the dim light from the hall and saw his friend leaning over him. "What is it?"

"It's Snape, Ron..."

"What's the git gone and done now?" Ron asked, flopping back against his pillow.

"He came and talked to me in the study... I didn't think anything of it, but after, lying in bed, I was thinking about the things he said. He... I think he's gone after them, Ron."

"_Snape_? Harry, I really don't think..."

"He disapparated, Ron."

"What?"

"He didn't floo. He disapparated. He can't apparate into Hogwarts."

"Bloody hell!" Ron sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and reaching for his jeans.

"I'm going to go and wake the others... downstairs in five minutes, okay?"

"Done," Ron responded as Harry rushed from the room.

"Ron? What's happened?"

"Harry thinks that Snape's taken things into his own hands and gone to the school."

"They'll kill him!" Hermione sat up.

"If they don't, then I just might," Ron muttered, stepping into his heavy-soled boots and pulling on a thick sweater over a tshirt. "Bloody git..."

"Ron, I'm sure he means well..."

"I'm not."

"Be careful..." she said, pushing the covers back, and getting out of bed. Coming to him, she wrapped one arm around his neck and stood on the very tips of her toes to kiss him. Taking his other hand, she placed it on her belly, low. "We'll be here, waiting for you."

"Mione?" he whispered, what she was saying dawning on him.

"A part of you will always be with me, Ron. Forever, now, you'll always have something to come back for. I love you."

"You and I need to have a talk about your timing when I get back."

"Promise?" she smiled.

Ron quickly kissed her hard, and turned to the door. When he reached it, he glanced back at his wife.

"I love you, Hermione."

"I know," she nodded. "Now go, it's not right if you're not beside him."

* * *

In the kitchen, Ron was pulling on his cloak when Harry entered with Charlie, Bill and Fred behind him.

"George?" Ron enquired.

"Coming," Harry said, sitting down and pulling on his own boots. "He's getting your dad."

"Dad isn't coming!" Ron said, shocked.

"No," Harry said. "But we thought it would be a good idea to have him up and ready for us... when we get back. And the rest of the Order needs to know."

Harry pulled out his cel phone and dialled.

"Harry?" Bill looked at him.

"Lupin," Harry explained.

"I'm going to get Neville," Ron said before disapparating with a pop.

"You think we should let Lee know?" Fred asked as George and Arthur rushed into the room.

"The more the merrier..." Bill said as he pulled his hair back into a tight pony tail, out of his way. Fred disapparated, leaving Arthur looking at Harry.

"Remus? It's Harry. No, it's not... we need you here... now. Immediately. I think Snape's gone after them, and... okay."

As Harry disconnected the call, Arthur spoke, "Harry? Are you sure?"

"As sure as I can be, Arthur. We'll follow his signature..."

"Be rather embarrassing if we follow him into a place he'd rather us not see him in..." Charlie commented, grinning at the look on Harry's face.

"I doubt it, Charlie," Harry said after a moment. "You weren't there... it was.... spooky."

"_Snape_ is spooky, Harry," George said. "Reminds me of a bloody bat..."

"Just... trust me, okay?" Harry said, looking around at the group.

"We do, Harry," Bill nodded. "Or I would have flattened you for walking in on Janie and I the way you did."

Harry flushed, and George began to laugh. His laughter, however, was short lived as they heard footsteps on the stairs. Hermione and Ginny appeared first, holding tightly on to each other's hands, then Molly and Janie, who blushed furiously when she looked in Harry's direction.

"Harry?" Hermione looked around the room. "Where is Ron?"

"Gone for Neville, Hermione," Harry said. Then stated flatly, with no room for argument, "You're not coming."

"No," she agreed quietly.

"Good. Do you think you can work on convincing Charlie and Bill to stay?"

"Not gonna happen, Harry," Bill muttered as he pulled on his heavy black leather cloak, not even bothering to look at Harry.

"Over my bloody dead body," Charlie said.

"That's _exactly_ what I'm afraid of," Harry said, looking at Ginny's eldest brothers. "It's bad enough that Ron and I and the twins are going, you two need to..."

"Harry?" Bill said, his blue eyes boring into Harry's green ones with sudden intensity. "Do you remember what I told you way back? That I wouldn't be hiding when the time came?"

"Yes, Bill."

"The time has come, and we both know it. Now shut the hell up, because you're just wasting time."

As Remus Lupin popped into the room, Harry turned to Ginny and pulled her close, hugging her tightly. "I love you. More than life, more than anything. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you, and I have never stopped. Remember that, please?"

Ginny looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear at the tone in his voice. "Harry?"

"Arthur?" Harry turned to his father in law, pushing Ginny gently toward him. "You keep her here. Understand?"

"Absolutely, Harry," Arthur nodded, recognition in his eyes as Harry stared into them. Ginny thought something passed between them, and was startled as she saw tears come to her fathers eyes.

_Legilimens._

"Harry..." Arthur began, his voice tight with emotion.

"Keep her here, Arthur. No matter what."

Arthur nodded, and Molly, sensing his emotions, came to stand next to him, holding him close as Arthur placed an arm around his daughter's shoulders.

"Harry?" Ginny tried to move forward, but Arthur held her tightly. "Harry!"

"I love you, Ginny," Harry said, as he turned away.

Ron and Neville appeared with a pop, and seconds later, Fred with Lee Jordan, who had a serious case of bed-head, but was fully clothed and had his wand out. At the last moment, Tonks popped into the room.

"You're not going anywhere without me! Thanks for calling, Remus... Shack is pulling together some aurors and will meet us there."

"Okay?" Harry said. "Follow me."

And with that, he disapparated out of the room, the last thing he looked at was Ginny's white face and the tears on her cheeks as she strained against her father's hold.

* * *

They apparated into a clearing in the forest about half a mile from the school. Harry could see dim light in several of the windows, but overall, the buildings were dark.

"There should be a tunnel entrance somewhere..." Harry said quietly. "It'll be hidden..."

"Found it, Harry," Tonks said. "Over here, behind this rock."

"Nymph?" Harry said. "I want you to stay here."

"Not in a bloody month of Sundays, my lad," she said.

"You can't..."

"I can. It's what I've been doing for almost thirty years, Harry. I know what I'm capable of, and I'll drop back when I can't do it anymore, okay? I'm not stupid."

"No, but that bloody Gryffindor pride..."

"You know it," she confirmed, nodding. "Now shut the hell up and lead the way."

Harry and Ron took the point, leading the others into the tunnel.

"_Lumos minimus,_" Harry whispered, lighting the tip of his wand to such a tiny speck of light that the crack in the earth they were standing in was barely illuminated. "I'm not going to keep the light on. We don't want to tip them off that we're here. Follow. _Nox._"

They all followed as Harry and Ron moved forward.

"Harry?" Ron said quietly after a few moments. "Harry... this is it, isn't it?"

Harry hesitated, but then responded in the darkness. "I think so, Ron."

"Yeah, I figured," Ron whispered. There was a moment of silence before he continued. "Hermione's pregnant."

"Really?" Harry smiled despite himself.

"Yeah. She told me before we left."

Harry tried hard not to laugh. "Impeccable timing, our Mione has."

"She does," Ron agreed as they kept moving steadily forward. "Harry?"

"What, Ron?"

"Thank you. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have her..."

"Yes, you would. You would have found her, eventually, Ron."

"Yeah, I suppose I would have," Ron agreed.

"Ron?"

"What, Harry?"

"There's something I need to say to you."

"Yeah?" Ron whispered after a moment's hesitation.

"Thank you for giving me a family, Ron. Thank you for being there for me, and sharing what you had with me. Thank you for... everything."

"Harry..."

"And you're my best friend, mate..."

"I know."

"But the Chudley Cannons are quite possibly the worst Quidditch team on earth," Harry said as they approached a turn in the tunnel. There was light beyond it. "And orange really isn't your color."

As they rounded the corner into what appeared to be a cellar, what they saw stopped them in their tracks.

"You _son of a bitch!" _ Harry screamed, pointing his wand at the man standing in front of him, just before the wave of green light lit the room to a blinding glare.

* * *

_And there is the second to last chapter...._

_**Shotgunn:** Goddess? I like this. I like this A LOT! _

_**Gorman99:** You're kidding me? I made you CRY? AT WORK? Holy moly... I'm honored... this is going over much better than I ever expected!_

_**Lupin123:** Sorry about that, mate. Don't want to keep you hanging for TOO long... you might lose interest!_

_**Kordolin:** I love writing this. It's been so much fun!_

_**Larna Mandrea:** I love your reviews, but I must say, I never expected a compliment such as that. As far as I'm concerned, JKR is the best there is. Bar none. But I'm honored, really!_

_**Merlindamage: **So glad to see he'll be missed, MD... you know, you shouldn't get so busted up about it! Sheesh!_

_CQ_


	21. Chapter Twenty One: The End and Beginnin...

Chapter Twenty One: The End and Beginning

"Oh, look... it's Potter," the snide voice dripped sarcasm.

"You son of a..." Harry stepped forward.

"Severus and I were just having themost interesting conversation, Harry," the short man stepped forward, grinning. He sniffed as he stepped over the body of a woman on the floor in front of him, the woman who had just taken a death curse. "Silly Millie, never could control her own wand..."

Harry glanced down to see an older, heavier Millicent Bulstrode laying on the floor between Snape and the advancing figure of Peter Pettigrew. There were eight others in Death Eater robes in the room.

"I've had enough of you, Pettigrew..." Snape snarled.

"I'm sure you have, Snivellus," Peter laughed. "Ah, Remus. Remember the fun we used to have with Snivellus? Wonderful times, weren't they?"

"Peter, you and I never had wonderful times together. You were never more than a..." Remus' eyes widened with shock. "A thorn in our side. James and I..."

"Ah, yes. The brave Gryffindors... how wonderful. James should have been sorted properly. We both would have been, had it not been for that idiot mother of his... and mine, too, of course. Women should never be allowed..."

With that, a snapping of electrical energy came from behind Harry, missing Pettigrew by several feet.

"Ah, Miss Tonks, I presume?" Pettigrew laughed, keeping his wand trained on Snape, showing his teeth. Dental care obviously was never on the priority list. "How's the tummy, Nymphadora? Anything to _bellyache_ about?"

"Pettigrew!" Harry shouted. "You and I have a score to settle."

"You?" Peter laughed. "You must be joking, Potter? I levelled your parents with a single curse, and you think that I'm worried about _you_?"

"I faced Voldemort. I faced Mahood. You want to take me on, feel free..." Harry stepped forward.

"Oh, Potter, don't make me laugh..."

"I'm not laughing, Wormtail."

Pettigrew immediately sobered. "Do not call me that, Potter. Never call me that."

"Why not?" Harry taunted. "Why shouldn't I call you anything... _anything_ I like?"

"I am far more powerful than you can imagine, Potter."

"I'm afraid I'll have to see some evidence of that, _Wormtail,_" Harry spat.

"You still don't get it, do you? Do you think that it's just coincidence that I've been standing next to Voldemort, then Mahood for all these years? Do you think that both of them would have the same second in command? Are you stupid, Potter?"

"Are you trying to tell me that you've been the one in charge all along?" Harry laughed. "Still having the delusions of grandeur, there, Wormtail?"

"Delusions? I think not, Potter... by the way, I must thank you..."

"For?"

"Well, it was so nice _seeing_ your parents again at Halloween, and the return of my _finger _was long overdue."

"What?"

"My finger, Potter. Surely you know the story? I lost a finger the day I relegated your parents to hell... the day I paid James Potter back for every humiliation he ever visited upon me..."

"What are you talking about, Wormtail?"

Harry's use of the derogatory nickname seemed to spur the man on. "You mean you haven't told him the story, Remus, old boy?"

"Harry..." Remus began.

"Oh, no... please, let me!" Wormtail grinned evilly at Lupin. "Your _father_ was supposed to be my friend. So, being his _friend_, I tried to urge him to leave that muggle bitch he was infatuated with alone... but _no_. He felt the need to _marry_ her. _Marry_ her! Can you believe it?"

Harry knew there was more to come.

"I tried to tell him. I tried, didn't I, Lupin?" his wild eyes turned to Remus, but didn't wait for his confirmation. "I told him, and told him, and told him... sullying the pure blood of the Potter family... it shouldn't have been allowed!"

"Allowed?"

"So, I tried to do the next best thing... show James what kind of woman he was marrying. But she wouldn't play house with me..." an evil grin began on his twisted face. "So I had to show her, in detail, what I intended. She didn't like it much."

Harry felt rage begin.

"So the bitch _bit_ me! Bit me!" He held up his hand. "But I got it... a nice replacement, don't you think?"

Harry looked to the hand held up. All the fingers appeared to be normal, except for the index finger... it appeared to be...

Dear Merlin.

"Do you like it? It's your _father's_," Pettigrew laughed. "I figured it was the least that he owed me, don't you think?"

"You sick bastard..." Harry heard Ron say.

"You... you were the one who desecrated their graves..." Harry said quietly, his rage building.

"Desecrated? Hmmm... I wouldn't have thought of it that way, but I can see how you might. Voldemort really had no idea of what I..."

"You haven't one tenth the power of Voldemort, you worm..." Snape said quietly.

"I _was_ Voldemort's power, Snivellus!"

"I guess I'd require proof of that, Wormtail," Harry said as he moved one hand behind his robes. He hoped that the others noticed. He sighed with relief as he felt them slowly fanning out... Ron to his left, Bill to his right, and the others moving slowly into position.

Hopefully, Pettigrew wouldn't notice.

Peter Pettigrew's eyes narrowed. "Proof? Very well..." he turned towards Snape, and lifted his wand.

However, as Pettigrew lifted his wand, Snape lifted his own, and before Peter could curse the old Slytherin, Snape had spoken the words to an ancient incantation, and Peter Pettigrew was no more. At least, his body was gone in a puff of yellow smoke and with a swift scream.

But simultaneously, a beam of red light came, seemingly out of nowhere, and hit a very surprised Snape directly in the back. Harry witnessed the man's stunned look as he fell forward, and yelled out as his body met the floor. Behind him, Remus' voice screamed a curse at the Death Eater standing behind Snape. It hit full force and, in seconds, the man was collapsed in a pile of robes on the floor, unmoving.

This seemed to wake something in the other Death Eaters, who immediately attacked, but they should have given it up before they started, as it was over in minutes.

Several of them were dead, the rest stunned and in the process of being secured by the others, as Harry ran over to where Snape lay on the floor.

"Sev?" Harry knelt beside him.

"It's okay, Harry..." Snape's voice was weak. "I've done what I came to do."

"It's _not_ okay, Sev!"

"The prophecy said that he must sacrafice all, Harry. I've done that. You... you don't have to. You go home, and take care of your children... and Ginny. I did this for Lily..."

"Lily needs to see you while she grows up, Sev... don't you _dare_ give up now!"

"Not that Lily, Harry..." Snapes face contorted in pain. "Your mother. She was my salvation. I joined the Death Eaters the day she married your father, a silly, emotional reaction... but I left the day you were born. She was my friend, Harry..."

And as Harry's panicked glance darted around the small room, looking for help, he felt Snape tense as he took in a sharp breath, then relax totally.

"God damn it, _no!_" Harry screamed.

But screaming didn't help.

* * *

Birthday cake and balloons were the order of the day. To an outsider, it might appear that they had gone overboard with the decorations, but Harry had insisted, and Molly hadn't had the heart to tell him that it was too much. Enchanted balloons danced throughout the house, and a cake was currently magically singing "Happy Birthday", which everyone but Harry, apparently, thought was taking it just a bit too far.

But Jamie and Lily Mione were in toddler heaven.

"Present time?" Harry grinned at them.

"Harry..."

Harry turned to see his obviously pregnant wife shaking her head at them, but she had a smile on her face, a smile Harry would never tire of seeing..

"Hey, it's not every day our babies have their first birthday!"

"No," Ginny agreed. "But I think the racing brooms you got them might be a bit much, love."

"That's just their 'one to grow on' present," Harry smiled at his children. "The _real_ present is in the yard, isn't it?"

"In the... yard...?" Ginny looked defeated. "Oh, Harry, you didn't..."

"I did, Mummy. I most certainly did!" He grinned.

"I told you..."

"Come on, Gin. How long are they going to be children for? Not long enough. And..."

"Harry! We have no room for it!"

"Gin-gin... we have nothing _but_ room since everyone moved out on us."

"Harry!"

"Come on," Harry lifted his son and daughter into his arms and, grinning at his wife, headed out the door. "I bet that Grandma Molly is ready to cut that cake!"

"Oh, Harry!" Ginny gave up, threw her hands in the air, and followed him. "Fine! But _you're_ feeding it!"

"I wouldn't have expected anything else, love!" Harry called back over his shoulder.

"Good bloody thing, Potter..." she grumbled, following him into the kitchen.

"Harry," Hermione grinned at him as he entered from where Ron was helping her sit in a straight-backed kitchen chair. "I don't think there are quite enough balloons in here, love..."

"That's not what Ginny keeps saying," Harry leaned down and kissed his 'sister's' cheek. "When did you arrive?"

"Oh..." Hermione sank into the chair. "Just now. Not being able to floo sucks."

"Hermione, you know what the doctor said, love..." Ron began, only to be cut off by his short-tempered wife.

"'If you fall out of a substandard hearth...' yadda yadda yadda..." Hermione said in a rather nastily taunting voice. "Ron, would you please stop treating me like a child? Get me a drink."

"Yes, love..." Ron stood.

Harry grinned. Hermione wasn't proving to be any more patient carrying twins than Ginny had been.

Ron returned with a tall glass of lemonade for Hermione, sitting it in front of her and leaning down to kiss her cheek.

"Have I told you today that I love you?" he said softly.

She smiled, her mood immediately lightening.

"Yes. When we woke up, in the shower, at breakfast, at morning tea, when you nipped into the kitchen for a snack before lunch..."

"Well," Ron smiled. "I do."

"I do, too," she looked up at him, her eyes soft. "More than anything."

"Cut it out, you two..." George walked into the room. "I swear, the two of you are so sweet it's sickening."

"You could take a pointer or two from your brother, there, my love," Angelina gave him a look. "You know, I can't _remember_ the last time you told _me_ that you loved me."

George wiggled his eyebrows, and turned to his wife. "Don't you? But I thought I _showed_ you every night, love."

"Oh..." Angelina deadpanned. "Is that was that three minutes every night is about?"

The room erupted with laughter at the look on George's face as he mumbled something and made a quick exit. Angelina came to the table, leaned down and gave each of the twins a kiss before handing them small, wrapped packages.

"Happy birthday, babies," she crooned.

"Not so much babies anymore, Auntie Angelina..." Harry said, distracted as Jamie tried to rip the paper off his gift while Lily Mione was busy whacking her father in the head with hers.

Jamie finally succeeded in getting a corner ripped, and then it was seconds before he realized that there was something _under_ the paper...

He finally, with his Uncle Ron's help, pulled out a tiny replica snitch.

"They'll fly over their cribs, and sound an alarm if anything is wrong..." Angelina smiled. "They're a kind of baby monitor."

"A snitch?" Ginny raised her eyebrows.

"Well," Angelina blushed. "Their father was the best seeker Gryffindor ever had. I thought it wasn't too soon to get Jamie and Lily Mione thinking..."

Ginny laughed, shaking her head.

At that moment, the door to the hallway opened again, and Molly bustled in, Arthur behind her.

"The others are here, Ginny, love. Do you want to bring in the cake?"

"The singing one, or the normal one, Mum?" Ginny said ruefully, casting a glance at her blushing husband.

Molly laughed. "Leave him alone, love. It's his right as their dad."

"Is it his right to get them that... thing... in the back yard?"

"What thing, love?"

"Look," Ginny said, leading her mother to the kitchen window that looked out over the kitchen garden.

"Oh, my!" Molly said, surprised.

"What is it, Ginny?" Angelina said.

"A _dog_," Ginny said. "A great, huge, black, smelly _dog_."

"It's a Newfoundlander, Ginny," Harry said. "They're very protective of children."

"It's beastly, Harry," Ginny said. "And it smells."

"It's not," Harry said firmly. "And it doesn't."

"You're feeding it," she said.

"Fine," Harry agreed, shrugging good humoredly.

"And cleaning up after it," Ginny picked up the cake and headed towards the door.

"No problem," Harry nodded.

"And it is _not_ coming in this house!" she shot at him as she exited the room.

Harry looked shocked for a moment, then his face fell. Following his wife into the hallway, the others heard him say, "But, Ginny..."

"Harry Potter, that thing is _not_ coming in this house!"

Those left in the kitchen burst out laughing.

"How long?" Ron asked.

"Three weeks," said Angelina.

"Three weeks?" Hermione snorted. "I give it three days. It will be sleeping on their _bed_ in three weeks."

Ron helped her up from her chair and led the two women into the War Room, where the remainder of the guests were assembled for the cake-eating.

Harry looked around at the guests as he handed off Jamie to Ginny and then settled Lily Mione in her highchair. Each child had a huge cake in front of them, and their eyes were round with wonder.

Tonks was there, with Shack. Harry knew that they had arrived together, and that they would more than likely leave together. Despite their problems, Harry hoped that they could get it worked out. He wanted to see them both happy. Remus stood speaking with them.

Charlie and Amelia, Amelia's parents, and Bill and Janie were seated in the corner, Bill talking animatedly, using his hands to illustrate what he was saying. Charlie was nodding in agreement with whatever it was Bill was saying. Janie laughed, and Harry smiled. Those two would probably have gone with him into hell, if necessary, to protect their families.

The twins were standing in the opposite corner, with Alicia between them. Harry watched as all three smiled when Angelina joined them.

Molly fussed, making sure everyone had drinks, while Arthur looked on, a small smile on his lips as he watched his aging bride. Those two seemed to be more and more in love every day. Harry hoped that he and Ginny had the years together that Arthur and Molly had been blessed with.

Children raced around. Weasley grandchildren and David and Susan, it didn't seem to make a difference to the others that their adopted cousins didn't seem to be displaying any magic. Harry hoped they continued to be as accepting. He hoped, too, that with time, perhaps David and Susan would be able to develop their magical ability, that all had not been lost with what they had been through.

He watched as they raced around the far end of the table, bringing his eyes to the last of their guests. Minerva McGonagall sat, her back straight, a thin but happy smile on her face as she watched those around her, and responded to something Hermione said as Ron helped her sit down beside the aging Headmistress. And beside her, sitting comfortably in a wheelchair, the gaunt figure of Severus Snape.

Harry sighed. Snape's recovery hadn't been easy. The spell that had been thrown at him had broken his back, but luckily, they had managed to get him to St Mungo's quickly enough. He was still working hard at it, but the doctors had high hopes that he would walk again, if only with a cane. Harry had teased the older man that it would just lend that much more to his dark image with the students at Hogwarts.

Snape's eyes had danced with glee at the thought.

But they were there. All of them. They were together, and safe. In the past three months there had been absolutely no Dark Arts activity. Anywhere.

Harry didn't fool himself that, eventually, it would not begin again. But for now, all was safe. Peter Pettigrew's reign of terror, whether as leader or supplicant, was now over, and as yet, no one had dared step forward. Perhaps that had something to do with the notice that Harry had put out three days after the confrontation in the cellar of the muggle boarding school, that in his role as Minister, any type of violence against the innocent would be construed as a threat, and that that threat would be dealt with as he had dealt with the last three threats to their world.

As of yet, there had been no problems.

Yes, Harry looked around at his family. The policies he had initiated may not be what he would wish for in an ideal world, but to keep these people safe?

It was worth it.

* * *

Later that night, while Ginny put the twins to bed, Harry stood on the back porch, looking up at the sky full of stars. It was uncommon to be able to see this many stars in London, but it was a particularly clear night.

He remembered another night, standing out here with Ginny, speculating on the possibility of other inhabited worlds, and if their problems might be easier to take than the ones they had to deal with here.

Harry sighed. Ginny had shared her wisdom with him that night. She always had the right answers, no matter what he asked.

He felt arms go around him from behind, and let out the breath he hadn't even realized he was holding. Her soft hands linked together in front of him and he placed his own hand over them.

"Is it over, Gin?" Harry whispered, looking up at the stars.

"It's getting there, Harry," she responded, rubbing her forehead against his back.

He smiled, pulling her around to nestle in his arms, against his broad chest. Hugging her tightly, he sighed.

"I still feel like it's never going to be gone," he admitted.

"It won't ever be gone, Harry. We lived it, we'll carry it around in our hearts forever. But our children, Merlin willing, won't have to go through what we've gone through, lose what we've lost."

"Do what we've done," Harry finished, a brief flash of pain in his eyes. He felt Ginny nod. "But I hope..."

"I know," she whispered, smiling up at him, her brown eyes glowing. "Isn't it wonderful?"

_FINIS _


End file.
